Foot Falls: 221C
by FoxxStarr
Summary: The Fifth Installment of the Foot Falls Series. Artemis and Tracey find themselves in London living in 221C Baker Street. What could possibly have brought them to Sherlock & John? And how are they supposed to fix anything when even Sherlock doesn't know what to do? Rated M for swearing, torture & Adult themes. I own nothing don't sue me! (No slash or pairings)
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! Welcome to the Fifth Installment of the Foot Falls Series. If you haven't read the previous stories stop here and click on the little hyperlink to get to my profile and read them in order! It's worth it I promise. Or jump into this one and try to follow along but either way please read the rest of our stories too! As always reviews are rewarded with Good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

The world went white around them as Lady Bird crumpled under the combined weight of the Raiju. Artemis sucked in a deep breath wondering if it hurt to die when the Voice filled the cockpit. She laughed in relief. "You have done well but your task is not yet done." The words repeated in an echoing refrain.

They flew through the antiseptic white room then the world went foggy. Artemis and Tracey coughed as the fog turned to something thicker, more acrid and Artemis felt a familiar buzz in her blood of strong nicotine. 'Why are we flying through cigarette smoke?' She wondered but the world came to an abrupt stop and she grabbed for Tracey.

She coughed and tried to blink tears from her eyes while looking around. They were in a smallish apartment with cream colored carpeting and a small fireplace in one corner. A couch and an armchair sat catty corner to the fireplace and a small TV sat on a stand across from the couch. A couple of small tables sat by the chair and couch, the detritus of comfortable living on the tables, a blanket and cushions on the couch and in the armchair. The tiny kitchen sat across from the living room and down a short hallway three doors sat ajar. Artemis was vaguely aware of the sturdy totes lining the wall behind the couch as she straightened up rubbing Tracey's back trying to help her stave off the usual nausea of a trip through the Waiting Room. It didn't work and Tracey made a beeline for one of the doors and Artemis winced hearing her vomit into the toilet. She went into the kitchen and got a glass of water bringing it into the bathroom with her. "Hey darlin' I brought some water to rinse with."

Tracey coughed fitfully, holding her hair back with one hand and steadied herself over the toilet with the other. Spitting the original bile from her mouth, she took the glass of water from Artemis and used it to wash out her mouth and rinse. She stood up from her kneeling potion and looked around the room before taking a rag from the wire rack that held fresh towels and other wash clothes. This she used to wipe her mouth and then steadied herself, taking in all her new surroundings and sighed in aggravation.

"God that's getting old in a hurry." She coughed and raked her fingers through her hair, tucking it behind her ear and looking down at her new clothes. "This is just great... Artemis do you know where we are?"

Artemis shrugged and walked back into the living room looking around, she spotted their satchels on hooks by the doors and gave a small sigh of relief. "I'm not sure where or even when we are but it looks modern for the most part." She leaned over the couch and grinned. Looks like we might be closer to home though, our inventory is here."

Tracey looked around and trailed her fingers over the faint floral wall paper and everything from the waist high decorative panel was light wood paneling, very nice for their apartment. She assumed it was an apartment for all it's self furnishings. Her booted feet left light foot prints in the soft carpet as she stepped into the living room and looked around at their totes and their satchels, grateful that they made it and that their death in their previous universe was literally painless.

"It's nice to see familiar objects at least, but I have a feeling that our little adventure is far from over." Tracey replied, shaking her head and running her hand over their totes and looking at the contents. "Good thing we have our satchels though, now I suggest we figure out where we are and what the date it is... you're book-of-all-knowing should be in the totes somewhere. That might give us an idea of what we're doing here."

"Good idea." Artemis replied and started looking through the totes while Tracey looked around the apartment.

The rooms down the hall turned out to be bedrooms but there were no windows to see out of, it looked like they were in a basement occurred to her that she smelled like cigarette smoke but before she could change she heard Artemis muttering in frustration and walked back out. "No luck on my book-of-all-knowing." She said… or started to say when the door crashed inward and six feet plus of tall well dressed man stalked into the apartment making a beeline for Tracey. He grabbed her by the shoulders and buried his face against her shoulder inhaling deeply then as if that weren't strange enough he did it again a faint shudder running through him.

Artemis reacted on instinct and grabbed him by the shoulders one foot hooking around his ankle and pivoted their bodies as his grasp on Tracey slipped. She rode him to the floor one forearm pressed against his throat oblivious to all the shouting coming from the doorway and Tracey. "You Bastard! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Tracey hollered, backing away until she was against the wall, her hands balled into fists and her posture turning into a fighter's stance. "Why the hell are you here? You better start answering questions before my companion snaps your neck."

Tracey's balled fists turned her knuckles white and despite all the tidbits of training she had had in Ancient Greece, New York with the Turtles and on the coast of Hong Kong where their base was located, there wasn't enough time for her to get her footing in this new world. It all happened so suddenly, the pounding of feet in the hallway, the door banging open, the tall man suddenly rushing passed Artemis and swooping down on her, she couldn't prepare herself fast enough when the man grabbed her and... started sniffing her clothes for god only knows what reason. The banging and shouting brought forth three new people who came to their apartment to find out what all the loud noises were about.

"Sherlock you really shouldn't disturb the neighbors, they've only just arrived." Came a feminine voice from the doorway. "Ladies, I'm so sorry. I really must apologize for his behavior, it really isn't becoming of a gentleman of his caliber."

Tracey looked up at the newcomers and shook her head.

"That's not a good enough excuse to pardon him." Tracey replied, pointing a finger at the man lying under Artemis's body, his hair unusually disheveled.

"You're absolutely right and I hope we can make this up to you somehow." Said one of the two men who also stood in the doorway.

"How about telling us what the hell he was thinking, that will be good for starters!"

Artemis looked down at a pair of startled pale blue eyes under dark arching brows and a mop of curling dark brown hair and felt a laugh bubbling up in her chest. She was distracted from the laughter by his hands grabbing the front of her shirt and bringing it to his face so he could inhale oblivious to Artemis's forearm pressing against his throat. "Oh for fuck sake." She muttered and started to get up only to find herself stuck with his hands fisted in her shirt.

"He quit nicotine cold turkey… again." A shorter, stockier man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes said coming in cautiously.

"And we smell like cigarettes." Artemis finished trying to pry his hands loose.

"Sherlock let her go, you are dangerously close to molesting the poor woman." Another male voice said from the doorway.

Artemis looked over at the cluster of people in the door. "Mrs. Hudson can you put the kettle on please. I get the feeling it's going to be a long afternoon."

"Oh of course dear." Mrs Hudson tottered off muttering querulously about Sherlock and his funny ways.

Artemis pushed her hair out of her face as Sherlock slowly let go of her shirt and held a hand out to the shorter man. "Hi, I'm Artemis, this is Tracey. You are…?"

He took her hand and shook it. "I'm so sorry I'm John Watson and the limpet on your front is Sherlock Holmes. The fellow in the door is inspector Lestrade."

Tracey lowered her fists and nodded at her introduction before narrowing her eyes at Sherlock, still not liking how he just barged into their new living space and assault them. She resisted the urge to kick him while he was down and instead crossed her arms under her chest and shifted her weight to one side, keeping up the appearance of an immovable force.

"A pleasure I'm sure." She replied before looking at Sherlock and shaking her head again. "Almost... we don't smoke and as soon as we are able we'll be getting a shower so we don't smell like cigarettes, so there's no reason for you to be hanging around... Well you all might as well come in and make yourselves comfortable, I expect the tea will be ready soon."

Artemis patted Sherlock on the cheek to get his attention. "If you let me go I will give you the shirt ok? But you're heavy and as cute as you are I really don't want you clinging to me."

He blinked and let her go looking around the flat. You've just moved in." He said brusquely.

"No shit." Artemis replied and pulled off her shirt tossing it to him as she went back into the bedroom oblivious to the furious blushes of both Watson and Lestrade. When she came back out she was wearing a fresh shirt and Sherlock was sitting on the couch her shirt fisted in his hands.

"You moved in while we were away." He repeated.

Artemis looked over at Tracey with a half smile. "He doesn't miss much does he?"

"I guess not. Nothing gets passed you..." Tracey answered with a smirk. "I'm trying my absolute hardest not to say, 'No shit Sherlock' and I don't know if I'm going to make it through this encounter without saying it."

Going into their tidy little kitchen, Tracey began pulling out cream, sugar, tea cups and saucers and put them on a serving tray for when Mrs. Hudson came back. A moment later the sweet Landlady came back with a large kettle in her hand. Tracey smiled kindly at her and apologized to her for her own sharp words, chalking it up to the stress of moving into a new place. Mrs. Hudson waved away her apology, giving her a kind smile and a reassuring squeeze on the arm.

"It's quite alright my dear, I understand."

Taking the tray from the counter, Tracey brought it over to each of them and allowed them to doctor their tea the way they liked it before moving on and making herself some tea and settling on the arm of the chair Artemis was going to occupy.

"This is better."

Artemis sat in the comfy chair while John and Lestrade chose to stand near the couch a little awkwardly while Sherlock stared at the girls. When he spoke his voice was calm and measured again. "I find myself a little perplexed by the pair of you, two American women with accents indicative of life in the Southern states however neither of you are native to that region. Artemis speaks with undertones of the North West and North East and Tracey speaks with undertones of the North East but her bearing suggests her family was in the military so we can assume she spent her formative years in countries other than America so it's her mothers vocal undertones she carries." He paused for a moment considering them again before continuing.

"You've recently moved to London but only temporarily. You've both been involved in some kind of trouble that has left you hypervigilant, some kind of combat situation which make no sense since neither of you is in an occupation that would lead you to combat. Artemis has martial arts training but Tracey has no training. Artemis has seen real violence...and death I surmise from the level of calm she displays in hazardous situations. Tracey has lived in dangerous places but never seen true violence but she draws her calm from Artemis, perhaps thinking that if Artemis is calm there's nothing to fear. An erroneous assumption to make as Artemis's calm is superficial at best."

He took a breath looking away from the girls his interest sliding away and he finished in a distracted tone of voice. "Both of them have left someone recently too, lovers, probably running from something… boring."

"Sherlock that's hardly polite." Lestrade tried to interject but Sherlock was up on his feet headed towards the door.

The corner of Tracey's mouth began to curl into a wider smirk and she couldn't help but start to laugh out loud. It was slightly unnerving and a their eyes turned to her, blinking. Tracey set down her teacup on the saucer in her hands and shook her head.

"Didn't think I'd get to hear your description of us with my own ears until now... but you're wrong on a few points." She laughed and quieted her laughter. "I'm not going to tell you while points either, because I know you'll squirm until you can prove me wrong. So try again Sherlock, give it your best shot."

Mrs. Hudson was looking at Sherlock with disapproving look and shaking her head and looking uncomfortable. Watson was rubbing his eyes and looking a little stunned at both Tracey and Sherlock and Lestrade coughed, trying to break the palpable tension.

Artemis stood up and smiled at Lestrade and Watson then at Mrs. Hudson. "Its been a really… exciting day. It was nice to meet all of you, and nice to see you again Mrs Hudson but we're American and we'd like you all to leave now ok? Ok."

She stalked over to where Sherlock was just opening their satchels and pulled them away from him. "Ok." She nudged him out with a hip check and ushered the rest of them out more politely before closing the door and locking it behind them."

Tracey took up the used cups and shook her head, taking it all into the kitchen to start cleaning them up. Placing the freshly washed utensils on the drying rack to dry for a spell before looking around at their apartment again and shaking her head.

"The nerve of that Bastard to come charging in here, but at least this little encounter gave us a little more information than we had before." Tracey stated, pushing her hair out of her face. "We know we're in London now, we're renting an apartment room from Mrs Hudson and I'm going to go out on a limb and say that since there aren't any windows we're probably in one of the lower levels of the building. Sherlock better stay out of our apartment or I'm going to taser him."

Artemis shoved a chair under the door knob. "We're in 221C. Remember that episode where Mrs. Hudson said she had a hard time renting that one. Looks like we rented it."

She rummaged through the satchels checking their belongings and sighing in relief. "Looks like I caught him before he took anything."

"Good, but yes I remember her saying that. I never thought he'd be annoying in person as he almost was on t.v." Tracey replied, collecting her satchel and taking it to her room.

It was a fair size to be sure, a comfortable queen sized bed and a dresser on the far wall that sat next to a closet door. The cream colored carpet followed them into the bedrooms. Wood flooring could be seen underneath the runners that led up the hallway and into the living room. All in all Tracey had to admit that it was homey. She set her bag on the dresser and fished out clean clothes and underwear so she could change into them after her hot shower.

"Shower and food, stat and then relaxing afterwards." She called from her bedroom.

Artemis sat down on the couch and flicked on the TV. "You shower first." She called back and tried to find something to watch.

Tracey's hot shower was a blessing from the gods. The hot water washed away all her worries for the time being and she needed it. Steam filled the bathroom in rolling waves and fogged up the mirror while she showered. The dirt and smell of smoke that caked her clothes and her skin could all be washed away now. She lathered up her wash cloth and scrubbed every inch of her body, the bubbles trailing down her skin to be rinsed down the drain by the water. After she took care of her hair, both shampooing and conditioning it, she rinsed thoroughly and shut off the water. Tracey stood for several moments just letting the water drip from her body and squeezed the water from her hair so it would dry faster.

"That's so much better." She said with a refreshed sigh.

Taking one of the two towels from the towel hanger and started to dry down her body, wrapping it around herself until it was safe to leave the shower. She pulled on her clean clothes, tied off her belt and slipped on a fresh pair of socks. Tracey ran a brush through her hair, left it down and hung up her towel to dry. Leaving the bathroom, she started to walk passed her room but then stopped and went in, picking up the leather journal that Legolas had written in for her and sighed. She closed the door to her room, went into the living room to crash on the couch and opened it to start reading.

"Oh the shower is ready for your use." Tracey said, turning the pages of the journal slowly and taking in every sweet word in Legolas's flowing handwriting.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock swept up the stairs out of the basement and headed up to he and Johns apartment an annoyed look on his face. John shook Lestrade's hand and walked him out before following Sherlock up the stairs. "What was all that about Sherlock? Aside from your perverse need to know everything."

Sherlock wasn't really listening as he rummaged through his desk for something. John realized with a start that Sherlock still had Artemis's shirt, though it was laying haphazardly on the back of a chair. "Sherlock why on earth did you steal that womans shirt."

"Nicotine." Sherlock replied tersely and finally untrenched his own laptop.

John made a disgusted noise and picked up the shirt. "I cannot believe you broke into their apartment so you could inhale the residual nicotine off their shirts… no wait I can believe that, what I can't believe is that Artemis didn't break your neck for manhandling her girlfriend."

"Tracey is not her girlfriend." Sherlock replied typing frenetically.

John didn't ask how he knew, he simply took the shirt down to Mrs. Hudson and asked her to wash it before returning it. Sherlock was trying to find Artemis and Tracey online, Artemis had several very distinctive tattoos, one very large on on her left forearm, one smaller one on her right bicep and a fresh tattoo of a bird just under her collarbone. She also had a long scar on the inside of her left arm that would have had to be treated at a hospital. When John came back up half an hour later he peered over Sherlock's shoulder at the screen. "Are you cyber stalking our new neighbors?"

"I would be if I could find them." Sherlock replied irritably.

"What do you mean?" John asked looking curious.

"I mean they don't seem to exist. I checked every airport, train and bus line that could have brought them into Britain and no one matches their description and Artemis has a very unique description. There are no new cars in the lane which means they do not have a car so they did not drive. So how did they get here. Ask Mrs. Hudson what their surnames are so I can run an international search."

"No." John said and picked up his coat.

"No? Whyever not?" Sherlock asked looking surprised.

"Because I am late for my shift at the surgery and there is no reason to be snooping around in these women's lives. Besides, I asked Mrs. Hudson about them while I was downstairs. They are in London for a few months while they make the rounds at the comic conventions. They make lovely crafted items and Artemis is a seamstress. Maybe if you're nice to her she'll repair that Belstaff overcoat of yours." He put on his jacket and opened the flat door. "Leave them be Sherlock ok? Why don't you go see if Molly has a new tongue for you or something." He left and Sherlock was left staring at the laptop screen seriously tempted to call Mycroft.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! This one practically wrote itself. I love Sherlock and it's so much fun to write this fic. Heck I've even started a totally** **separate** **set of fics. A Nanny for Rosie and Rosies New Mommy so if you like this you might like those. As always reviews are rewarded with Good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

Two days later Artemis had finally located her day planner and calendar only to find that the conventions they had been booked for were already over which meant that in this world they would have to get ready to leave soon. She was about to go speak to Mrs. Hudson about when their lease was up when the sweet old lady knocked on the door. Tracey was out to the bank to exchange a gold coin for some local currency and get some groceries. "Mrs. Hudson. I was just coming to talk to you."

Mrs Hudson smiled and handed Artemis her shirt. "Sherlock stole this the other day John asked me to wash it and return it, I'm sorry it took so long… my mind wanders sometimes."

Artemis smiled and took the shirt. "Thank you. I was wondering when our lease is up."

"Oh… you're not thinking of leaving are you. I'm sorry Sherlock was so rude but…" Mrs Hudson seemed alarmed.

Artemis patted her arm. "No no… I just couldn't remember, I've been so busy that I misplaced the lease and I forgot to write it down."

"Oh alright then dear. Well you and Tracey have the place for the next six months. You mentioned some sort of sewing thing you were planning on entering…" They both heard someone running down the stairs and Mrs Hudson sighed. "He must be on a case…" She muttered and smiled at Artemis.

Tracey had finally finished at the bank after having to show her driver's license and her passport, both of which had been in her satchel somehow and was working her way through the grocery store trying to find anything familiar in the aisles. She saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned her head just in time to see Sherlock ducking behind a display. At first she didn't know quite what to think and then she recognized the mess of brown hair and the familiar trench coat Sherlock always wore. With a roll of her eyes, Tracey started to push her cart again and continued to scan the aisles for a few more things like rice, bread, eggs, fresh fruit and vegetables, milk, chicken, soup and a few other essentials. She ignored the fact that Sherlock was following her until it got to the point where it was unbearable and she had had enough. Leaving her cart in the breakfast section, Tracey stalked quickly and silently over to the next aisle, not only to grab an item but to give Sherlock a moment to approach the cart where he last saw her. She waited for a few seconds before looking around the corner and saw him standing there looking puzzled. Taking a breath and letting it out, Tracey walked but behind him on quiet feet and cleared her throat.

"For your information I don't like being stalked and I don't like feeling like I'm being hunted." Tracey said in a low voice. "If you do it again I will have to do something terribly out of character... any questions?"

He jumped and whirled around his eyes wide only to adopt an air of practiced nonchalance. "I was attempting to deduce your prefered food selections. Most people behave terribly awkwardly when observed so I was trying to be… discreet about my observation."

Tracey shook her head and deposited the cereal in the cart and took up driving the cart, not even giving him a backward glance to see if he was following her.

"So what did your not so secret observations tell you about our food preferences and about us?" She asked, driving the cart over to the cold section and picked up some cheese and butter.

"You yourself eat like a teenager. You like sweet foods and judging by how long you just searched for it you like processed cheese like products. But you're less concerned with your own food choices, you took a great deal of care when selecting foods which Artemis would enjoy...or is it tolerate. She had a gastric disorder doesn't she?" He reached into the cart and picked up two different brands of soup cans. "You immediately grabbed for these cans indicating your personal preference but you had to think about which of these to pick which means they aren't for you and you read the ingredient labels which means you're trying to avoid certain ingredients."

He put them back and continued. "You're choosing carefully and frugally which means you're used to being on a tight budget but you're also picking several nonessential items which indicates you feel safe enough to splurge on treats. You prefer chocolate, Artemis prefers fruit, another indication that she has some sort of health concern."

Tracey slowly clapped her hands in a very sarcastic way and smirked.

"Very good, I'd say I was impressed, but you'll have to get all the facts right before I say that." Tracey replied, picking up another grocery item and putting it in the cart. "Have you ever thought about just asking someone instead of creeping them out and stalking them?"

He frowned at her. "What do you mean all the facts? You asked me what I deduced from your grocery choices."

Tracey only smiled and pushed the cart to the house-ware department and picked up some paper towels and essentials she and Artemis would need.

"You like deducing things so figure it out on your own. One thing you'll learn about us, that I'll just tell you now because I feel like it, we're enigmas and it won't be easy for you to figure us out. It's going to be a challenge but I think the Great and enlightened Sherlock Holmes is always up for a challenge."

He followed her silently through the rest of the grocery trip and hailed a cab for them when she'd checked out. When they got back to the apartment he helped her unload the groceries still in silence. When they opened the door to 221C they heard Artemis singing in one of the bedrooms and Sherlock stopped as though he'd hit a wall. He listened to her singing the bags of groceries forgotten in his was still standing there when John came down the stairs. "Sherlock, I thought you were told to keep clear of…" He stopped and stared a little surprised at Sherlock standing so still.

Tracey dropped her groceries onto the kitchen counter and then came back out and stared at Sherlock for a moment before taking the grocery bags out of his hands and returning to the kitchen. Coming back out, she smiled at Watson and greeted him with a salute.

"At the moment he's fine, though I'm worried for what could happen later." She said with a shrug. "This time he was just stalking me at the grocery store, but then helped me get the rest of our groceries in and was polite enough to get a cab for me... it's a slow road to an apology, but I'll accept it. Artemis I've returned!"

The singing stopped and Artemis came out wearing a tanktop her short auburn hair pulled into a ponytail. She gave Sherlock a puzzled look as he seemed to collect himself and smiled at John. "Hey John, welcome back Tracey."

John smiled back and took Sherlock by the elbow. "Come along you. Lestrade is on the video and wants you to look at a scene. It's only a 4 so you needn't leave the flat."

Artemis picked up a bag and peered into it. "Oooh! You got me peaches."

As Sherlock and John left Tracey heard Sherlock mutter something about Artemis being an alto then he started asking questions about gastric disorders. Watching them go, Tracey shut the door behind them and locked it. She went into the kitchen and started to put away the groceries, glancing over her shoulder at Artemis and then started to tell her about what happened to her while she was at the grocery store.

"I don't like being stalked, ever since our first trip... out of state..." She said, putting away the fruit and showing her a fruit can. "I also got the mandarin oranges for us too.

"Yummy. I can't blame you for not liking it but it's Sherlock, and you teasing him doesn't help." Artemis started putting away the veggies.

"I know but I can't help it, I like messing with people." Tracey answered, folding up the brown paper bags and putting them in the closet to use as trash bags for the recycling. "It's just too much fun... so what do you think we should do now? We know he won't let this go."

"Well first stop is figuring out why we're here. I'm going to go to an electronics store now that you've gotten us some cash so I can buy a laptop. If we're in this world it's got to have something to do with Sherlock and company but I can suss it out without raising a lot of questions." Artemis replied wandering back to her room to find a shirt to throw over her tanktop. "I was thinking of having the neighbors over for dinner tonight."

"We're inviting trouble by having them over for dinner! You know it too!"

Tracey let out a loud groan and gave Artemis a hurt look while flopping down onto the couch.

"If that's the course of action you think we should take then I'm glad I got the ingredients I needed for sour cream enchiladas tonight."

Artemis flopped down beside her and snugged an arm around her shoulders. "We need information Tracey. The sooner we can fix whatever's gone wrong here the sooner we can move on. Sherlock is observant as hell, deductive as all fuck but even he can't deduce that we are being dumped from universe to universe by some sort of Elder God. It would never even occur to him and even if it did what can he do about it?"

She looked at Tracey her eyes concerned and a little sympathetic. "I get it, I get that you want to isolate yourself from all of this, to save yourself the hurt of leaving friends behind. You had to do that for years growing up and then just as you were getting comfortable letting people in Matt and Fox left then all this happened and then Legolas… But you can't cut yourself off."

"I know... and I know you're feeling the same with Iolaus too..." Tracey said with a sigh, laying her head on Artemis's head. "I'm trying, but it's getting harder with every universe we go to and it's not just from my childhood either. Granted I thought my family being in the military was an awesome thing and I didn't mind so much since I got to see the world but after a while I didn't care to make friends anymore because I knew that I'd have to leave them behind. I think that's one of the reason my parents sent me to a psychiatrist but I never got a clear answer as to why they sent me."

She let out a sigh, shook her head and waved her hand dismissively in the air.

"Let's see what information we can gather when you get the laptop, I'm going to stay here and read a little in my journal and write in it a little, unless you really want me to come with you."

Artemis kissed her cheek and stood up. "I'm ok going alone."

She pulled on a pair of boots, rummaged in Tracey's wallet for some cash and grabbed her house keys. "I'll be back later."

She clattered up the stairs from the basement and gave Mrs. Hudson a cheery wave as she strode towards the door only to find Sherlock at the door on his way out. He gave her a curious look as she breezed by him. "Be at our place by six tonight Sherlock." She said as she strode out onto the sidewalk. "I'm going to invite John and Mrs. Hudson too. I hope you like enchiladas."

"I've never had them." He answered following after her keeping pace with her long strides his coat flapping around his legs.

"You'll like them." Artemis replied and raised a hand to hail a cab.

He examined her hand, long artificial nails done in a glittering crimson polish and rings on the four long fingers. He saw an indentation on her thumb where another ring had sat but was now missing. His eyes fell on her other hand, three rings on that one. He was trying to figure her out when the cab pulled up and she got in. "Don't be late Sherlock. If you arrive on time I'll tell you a secret."

He frowned and raised a hand for another cab headed to St Barts.


	4. Chapter 4

**And now we find out why the girls got sent to the Sherlock Universe. And Artemis has a plan to figure out what's going on once and for all.**

It was hours later that Artemis came back with a new laptop in a sturdy leather carry case. She'd detoured to a cafe with wifi and spent several hours researching Sherlock, she'd read through all of Johns blog posts, all of the news articles and even been on the fan sites. She walked into the flat and locked the door behind her before setting the case down on a chair. "Moriarty isn't dead." She said leaning back against the wall.

Tracey looked up from the beautifully decorated, leather bound journal she was writing in and stared at Artemis with her mouth slightly opened in disbelief. Slowly she marked her place with a piece of blue ribbon and closed the journal. She sat up straighter on the couch and spoke in a low whisper.

"But how is that possible? We know he died, we saw him eat his own gun and his brain matter splatter out behind him." Tracey said, keeping her voice low just in case anyone was listening. "I guess that's why we're here, but now we have to figure out if we're suppose to make sure he kills himself or if he's suppose to be caught... but how are we going to go about doing that?"

She let out a sigh and her facial features contorted into a thoughtful expression. Artemis moved away from the wall and headed towards the kitchen speaking quietly. "I just spent hours reading everything I could find about Sherlock and Moriarty. The events at the Pool happened just as we saw them, the Great Game too, where he had Sherlock chasing all over London solving cold cases. But then it all changes. Moriarty never executed that weird series of daylight robberies, never got arrested and never got released. He never framed Sherlock and the fall off St Barts never happened. It's now at least a year past the date when all that would have happened. Add to that that Moriarty is still running around taunting Sherlock, there are a few blog posts that mention him in connection with a strange crime. Irene Adler is still at large in the world too but we already knew that."

She poured a cup of tea and stirred in cream and sugar her eyes not focused on the kitchen but on some inner thought process. "I'm going to try to do some magic tonight, try to see if I can reach out to the Voice on purpose and get some answers."

Glancing at her watch, Tracey noted the time and then got up from the couch to head for the kitchen too. She started to pull out her ingredients for the sour cream enchiladas. Tracey washed her hands and started to pull out the mixing bowl, measuring cups, and spatula. The prep work wasn't the hard part for the most part though the mixture did get thicker with each ingredient that she added. She purposely left out the onions because of Artemis's stomach problems and made sure to fold over the thickening filling thoroughly before applying healthy portions to the flour tortillas and then rolling them up and putting them in a pyrex glassware container so she could cook them. She made sure that she put a nice layer on top of the tortillas for extra flavoring. It would take about an hour and half to fully cook and that would be about the time that their company should be arriving.

"While these cook, I'm going to straighten up a little and make sure the beers and wine are cold. I hope tonight goes over well." Tracey said with a smile. "If you need a little extra energy boost than let me know and I'll lend you whatever you need."

Artemis smiled and nodded. "I will. I'm going to go extend the invite to Mrs Hudson and John since I'm 90% sure Sherlock forgot to."

She left the flat and walked up the stairs to 221B and knocked. John opened the door and smiled brightly. "Artemis. What brings you to our flat? Sherlock hasn't invaded again has he?"

Artemis shook her head. "Nah, he's fine. I wanted to let you know I invited you both to dinner at our place. I know he'll forget so I thought I'd make sure you know."

He looked a little surprised. "Oh… well thank you for that." He leaned on his cane a little and tilted his head looking at her curiously.

"Why are you being so friendly towards him after he manhandled your girlfriend within the first 5 minutes of meeting you both."

Artemis laughed and he couldn't help the answering smile. "Tracey isn't my girlfriend. She's my sister. As to the friendliness I'm not exactly what you'd consider normal either, it makes me appreciate those of us who live outside the social norm."

"And Tracey? How does she feel about him?" John asked.

Artemis shrugged. "Tracey isn't the flaming extrovert that I am. She's more reserved and it takes her longer to warm up to people but she'll get there."

A door downstairs opened and Artemis glanced down the stairs at Mrs Hudson who was making her way up with a tea tray. "Oh Mrs Hudson, I was going to come see you. If you're free would you like to have dinner at our place tonight?"

Mrs. Hudsons face lit up with a smile. "Of course dear. That sounds lovely."

Artemis and John moved into the flat to give Mrs Hudson space to get by and Artemis looked around curiously at the general mess. "Remind me never to let Tracey come up here, her OCD will go into overdrive."

"You're both such tidy girls." Mrs Hudson said puttering around in Sherlock's flat avoiding the jars of body parts.

Artemis looked around at the messy desk, the towers of books stacked precariously all over every surface and on the floor, The skull on the mantle and the only clear space by the music stand with a violin case. She smiled thinking that the messiest people had the busiest minds.

John invited Artemis and Mrs Hudson to have some tea with him and they settled on whatever clean chair they could find. John started telling Artemis funny stories and they were all laughing too hard to hear Sherlock step into the building, he listened for a minute then decided to do a little investigating 'Snooping' his mind tried to interject but he ignored the thought.

He carefully slipped into Artemis and Tracey's flat, he could hear Tracey in the bathroom and the scent of cleaners told him she was probably scrubbing the tub. He looked around noticing all the little details, a new laptop, the smell of food cooking, music playing softly somewhere and a leather bound journal sitting on one of the end tables. He crept past the bathroom door which was half closed and poked around the bedrooms for a minute. Traceys bedroom was clean, the bed made and only a few personal items laying on the bedside table. Artemis's room in contrast was a mess. She didn't make the bed, clothes lay haphazardly on the chair, the foot of the bed and on the hooks of the closet door. Her bedside table was littered with personal items, a sleeping mask, pens, a journal, candles a bottle of allergy medicine and a stuffed fox. He left the bedrooms and went back towards the living room intending to break into the laptop when he paused by the bathroom door. Tracey was singing softly but in no language he'd ever heard before and he made it his business to have at least heard every spoken language. It had finnish tones, a singsong cadence but the words were a curious blend of too many languages. He stepped quietly into the room cocking his head trying to puzzle through the language, Tracey was on her feet bent under the sink, he didn't even realize how close to her he was when she came back out from under and saw him in the mirror.

Tracey's eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. Instantly she went into defense mode and ducked down, sweeping his feet out from under him and watching as he fell backward onto his ass with a resounding thud. She pulled a taser gun from a holster at her ankle and shot him in the chest. The electricity coursed through his body, causing his muscles to spasm, his limbs to twitch and flail around on the floor of her freshly cleaned bathroom. Slowly Tracey rose to her feet, lips twitching at the corners of her mouth until they turned down and frowned at Sherlock as he twitched on the floor. She was far from pleased with him now and no amount of apologies from him would let her anger with him subside. The first few pissed words that flowed from her were in the same language Sherlock had heard from her when she was singing, though these were sharper and more harsh than before. Tracey suddenly realized that she was speaking Elvish and rolled her eyes and let out an angry breath.

"I told you I didn't like being stalked and then you go and do this!" She snapped, trying her hardest not to send another jolt of electricity through him again. "At least I've kept my word to Artemis... I told her that if you tried something again I was going to taser your ass and I'm a woman of my word. Stay out of our apartment or else."

Stepping over Sherlock's slightly twitching and leaving the bathroom, Tracey left the apartment and stomped up the stairs to the flats above. She pounded on the door of 221B and waited to be allowed inside or for the door to be answered. John opened the door looking concerned and Artemis stood "Tracey… whats wrong?"

"Get him out of our apartment now before I do something we'll all regret." Tracey seethed through tight jaws, holding up the taser with her finger off the trigger. "He's not invited to dinner."

Crossing her arms under her chest after returning the taser to its holster at her ankle, Tracey stepped to the side of the hallway and let her anger simmer, glancing over Watson's shoulder at Artemis. Artemis walked past her patting her shoulder and hurried down the stairs to their flat where Sherlock was just starting to sit up looking dazed. John had stayed with Tracey upstairs trying to smooth things over.

"You know for the smartest man in London you're pretty stupid." Artemis said kneeling down beside him.

He held up a finger and moved it side to side. "Track my finger Sherlock."

It was a measure of how dazed he was that he actually did as instructed and she smiled and smoothed his hair away from his face. "You are damned lucky I made sure to turn the amperage down on that taser."

"Why?" He questioned trying to get up but his legs weren't quite cooperating.

"Why lucky or why did she tase you?" Artemis asked putting her hands on his shoulders keeping him down.

"Both...either…" He mumbled feeling like his face weighed a hundred pounds.

"Lucky because if the amperage were much higher I'd be administering CPR right now. And she tased you because you snuck up on her again, uninvited again after she told you not to stalk her." Artemis lightly smacked him upside the back of the head and he looked at her surprised.

"It wouldn't bother you…" He said slowly. "I don't understand that."

Artemis smiled and helped him up. "I'm not bothered by much. Been too many places seen too many things."

She helped him towards the front door then stopped and checked his pockets. When she came up with nothing she smiled again. "Sorry, had to check. You sir have a bad reputation."

He started to regain himself as they went up the stairs. "I do not have a bad reputation, I simply have a reputation, it's neither good or bad. It's like the news, or the weather."

John had talked Tracey into coming into the flat and when Artemis brought Sherlock in he stopped dead and Artemis turned to face him. "Now you are going to apologise to her for sneaking up on her, you will promise not to do it again. And Tracey," Artemis turned to look at her friend. "Please be so gracious as to allow him to come to dinner, one of you needs to be the grown up and I have the sinking feeling that it's going to have to be you."

She nudged Sherlock who was looking down his nose at her and raised an eyebrow. He sighed and barely glanced at Tracey. "I apologize for entering your flat uninvited. It will not happen again." He swept past them all and retreated to his bedroom.

"Fine, but he's sitting on your side of the table."

The words Tracey muttered next was one of two of her normal angry statements she and Artemis used when they knew something was too good to be true.

"I'll believe that my shit turns purple and smells like rainbow sherbet."

Artemis shook her head fondly and took a few steps forward to hug Tracey lightly. "I know. I'll have him sit as far away from you as possible. Why don't you go finish angry cleaning and I'll… do whatever it is I do…"

"Yeah I'll do that..." Tracey replied and started down the stairs before calling back up the stairs. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes."

Going back to their apartment, Tracey finished putting their bathroom in order and put the cleaning supplies away. She went to the kitchen and washed her hands as the timer on the counter dinged and alerted her that the enchiladas were finished. Tracey told Artemis that dinner would be ready in twenty minutes so the food would have time to cool and before their guests arrived. She ran a brush through her hair and tied it back just as she heard the door open and voices come into the living room.

"There's cold beers in the fridge, tea, and other if that's what you're into." She said, coming up the hallway with a small smile on her lips.

John and Mrs Hudson were sitting on the couch but Artemis hadn't come down yet. "She's talking him out of his room dear." Mrs Hudson said standing up and offering a small bowl of violets.

John smiled and stood up as well. "I'd love a beer if you don't mind?"

"Not a problem Mr. Watson, I'll grab a cold one for you." Tracey said kindly, closing the door behind them, took the violets from Mrs Hudson and set them in the center of the table. "And for you Mrs. Hudson, a nice spot of tea perhaps?"

She went to the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and opened it before handing it to Watson. Opening the cabinet, she pulled out plates and began to set the table, bringing out the cutlery and napkins out too. Artemis was a very convincing talker and Tracey knew that she'd have Sherlock down those stairs in due time, but she didn't know how enjoyable it would be.

A few minutes later Artemis came clattering down the stairs with Sherlock in tow. He looked grumpy and resigned to being dragged by the hand like a five year old. Once they were in he stopped and crossed his arms. "I have done my part, do yours."

Artemis grinned and leaned up to whisper in his ear and he stood up suddenly. "I knew that couldn't be your real name! No wonder I couldn't find you online!"

Artemis laughed and nudged him towards a seat. "Sit down Sherlock and if you can make it through the meal without antagonizing Tracey I'll tell you another secret." She sauntered over to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine.

John looked surprised when Sherlock promptly sat down next to Mrs. Hudson. "How… no, I don't want to know, I'm just glad it's worked." He took a sip of his beer and sat down with Sherlock.

"Fat chance of that." Tracey muttered softly and looked at Artemis. "Are you feeding him tidbits Arty? We shouldn't be giving him hints, that's not how we play this game."

She brought out the glassware dish of enchiladas and then went back for another spatula to cut and serve the food on everyone's plates. For Artemis's sake she even made a leafy green salad and a mixed fruit salad as a side. She brought out a few salad dressings so everyone could take their pick and then they were served. Tracey grabbed a cup of tea for herself and brought over a cup for Mrs Hudson and set it down on the table for her. Taking a deep breath she looked at Sherlock, blinked and studied him for a moment.

"I surmise you'd like a cup of tea as well Sherlock, or would you like something else?"

"I think I'd like to try some wine if you don't mind." He replied politely.

Artemis smiled slightly and took a sip of her wine before sitting deliberately between his seat and the seat Tracey would. She started dishing out plates for John and Mrs. Hudson while Tracey poured a glass of wine for Sherlock. John broke the tense silence by telling a funny story about a small child who had been in to the office during his last shift. "The poor little blighter had stuffed a raisin up his nostril and was making the funniest whistling noise with it." He chuckled.

Tracey's eyebrow rose as she turned away to grab the wine bottle and another glass from the cabinet. She brought the bottle of wine to the table and handed off Sherlock's glass, looking him directly in the eye for a moment and then blinked. She turned away and walked back to take her seat in the chair on Artemis's other side and smiled at Mrs Hudson and Mr. Watson.

"Please eat and enjoy, this is my mom's recipe and only she could make it better than I."

There were several minutes of contented eating and then Artemis started a story about one of the conventions they'd been at. Tracey relaxed as the meal progressed and it almost started to feel like life as usual. Sherlock had kept quiet through the meal and John and Mrs. Hudson were wonderful companions to have at dinner. Artemis eventually looked at Sherlock who miraculously had eaten his whole meal. "So… I didn't realize how famous you two are until I looked you up online. I read Johns blog, did you guys really almost get blown up at a pool?"

He seemed to come out of a trance and blinked at her. "Yes."

John jumped in and told them the whole sordid story while Artemis listened.

"Now that's interesting." Tracey said, looking at them both and putting her elbows on the table with a smile. "We like to read up on cases such as yours and John, your blog is phenomenal and I loved every posting. You should write a book about your exploits and adventures too, they would be a good read for people in America."

John looked a little surprised. "I hadn't considered that."

Artemis chuckled then propped her chin in her hand. "So Moriarty, you kinda glossed over him. What was he like, aside from fucking nuts I mean?"

John looked at Sherlock and hesitated, Sherlock was leaning forward, his blue eyes laser focused on Artemis and Tracey but when Artemis gave him pleasant curiosity back he relaxed a little and nodded to John. "Well he… I guess... " John seemed to be at a loss as to what to say when Sherlock spoke up.

"Jim Moriarty is the worlds only consulting criminal and is as brilliant as myself. He is as you put it 'fucking nuts' but he is more than that. He is determined, focused, and ruthless in the extreme. There are things he will do that I, in my wildest nightmares would not consider. And he and I are locked in a Battle Royale of the mind with the only stakes that matter. Life and Death." He picked up his wine and took a generous swallow.

Artemis looked over at Tracey her eyebrow quirked. Tracey glanced over at Artemis too and raised both eyebrows as she looked down at her tea cup and then drank from it. She savored the warm liquid and finished off her last few bites before setting down her fork and pushed her plate away from herself.

'Self-centered much?' Tracey thought, staring at Sherlock and mentally smacking herself for her thought. 'But I should have foreseen this because Artemis and I have both seen how this guy think and acts.'

She looked over at John and smiled.

"Of course they'd be a good read. Listen I've worked at a bookstore and I've helped several customers look for mystery and crime novels. I've also seen them in my other clients' houses when I come over to clean their houses. You wouldn't believe the amount of mystery books that I've seen." She said with a smile. "I think you'd make a pretty pound sending them to America."

John flushed a little but shook his head. "I shouldn't. Sherlock is already chuffed over the blog, adding a series of books to it would be too much. It's his life story after all."

Sherlock looked like he wanted to say something but he kept his mouth closed apparently having decided that silence was his best chance at not antagonizing Tracey. Artemis got up and grabbed clean bowls for the fruit salad and some whipped cream and made herself busy serving up the fruit to everyone including a small portion for Sherlock though he looked a little askance at the dish. She added a dollop of whipped cream then sat down with her own small serving.

By the end of the meal Mrs Hudson and John were in fantastic spirits and Sherlock was doing his best not to fidget. Artemis finished her second glass of wine and set down the glass leaning back. John and Mrs Hudson wrapped up a funny story about a very anxious woman with a toy poodle that had gotten loose in Sherlock's flat when Sherlock stood up and gave a very stiff bow. "Hannah, Tracey, thank you for a wonderful meal. Have a pleasant evening."

He paused at the look on Artemis's face and John gave them a curious look. "Who?" He asked.

Tracey looked at Artemis and shook her head.

"It looks like the only way Artemis could get Sherlock Holmes to be social was to tell him her real name." Tracey said with a smirk. "Glad you seemed to enjoy yourself Sherlock, good evening."

Sherlock was watching Artemis though his words were directed at Tracey. "You too." He left ahead of Mrs Hudson and John.

Artemis looked at John and smiled a little. "I'd prefer if you kept calling me Artemis, or Arti, My birth name never really fit me. That's not who I am."

John nodded. "I understand. I'm sorry if Sherlock made you uncomfortable."

She grinned and stood up offering him a hand. "It's a mental hang up I need to get over anyway. You guys have a nice night ok?"

Mrs Hudson insisted on hugs before she left but a few minutes later Artemis and Tracey were cleaning the kitchen alone. Collecting the dishes and bringing them over to the sink, Tracey began to run the water over them and used the sponge to scrub the leftover food particles from the smooth plates. She rinsed them off with hot water and set them in the drying rack to air dry. The leftover food she covered and put in the fridge to heat up later and then proceeded to wipe down the table and counters.

"Well that was... fun." Tracey said quietly, hanging up the dishcloth and turning to Artemis. "I don't mind telling you now that I preferred watching Sherlock from the t.v. side of the living room and that he's annoying as hell... what are your thoughts about all this?"

Artemis leaned against the counter and poured another half glass of wine. "I can't blame you for being annoyed, hell pissed off. I think he's got this idea in his head that you'll be easier to get information from. I made a deal with him upstairs." She took a swallow of the wine and sighed. "I will give him little tidbits about myself and he will stop stalking you. He wanted to know my real name or he wouldn't come to dinner." She finished her wine and set the glass down.

"Well that I figured out rather quickly my sweet." Tracey said, shaking her head and pointing to her own head. "My brain puts a lot of things together faster than most remember?"

She had to laugh and shook her head a little, pulling out a small pint of ice cream from the freezer and digging around in the utensil drawer for a spoon and dug in. Licking the spoon clean, she sighed and looked around the kitchen to make sure that everything was clean.

"It's just weird to have him stalking around like a creeper. It was bad enough that we've been hunted since we started this little escapade, but I was kind of hoping that it wouldn't happen here too. This time it's from another human being! Do what you have to, but I wouldn't worry about me spilling the beans about anything."

"I'm not worried about you spilling the beans doll. I'm worried about you killing the man." Artemis replied with a smile.

She started rummaging in the cupboards pulling out the nesting bowls and some herbs. She grabbed a few candles and a lighter. "I'm going to go try to talk to the Voice. I'm probably not going to be back out tonight so don't worry if you don't see me until morning." She looked at the wine bottle. Mind if I finish that off? Loosening my grip on reality a little will help me contact the Voice."

"Nah go ahead my dear." Tracey said with a smirk and ate another spoonful of ice cream. "You know it certainly would be easier if he didn't tempt me into killing him. I'm just going to sit on the couch for a while and read my journal and see what's on. Tomorrow I need to go to the store and get phones for us because ours keep vanishing every time we get sent to a new universe... call me if you need me."

She flopped down on the couch with her ice cream and picked up the remote.

"Hopefully you'll get a hold of it and bitch slap it for playing with our lives and sending us out to fix it's messes."


	5. Chapter 5

**Artemis contacts the Voice and gets to learn what's really going on. As always reviews get Good karma and Kitten kisses!**

Artemis hooked the wine bottle with two fingers and headed to her room shutting the door and set up her tools. She was drawing on nearly 16 years of being a practicing witch as she cleared a space on the floor and set up the spell. She drank straight from the wine bottle and could feel the effects of the alcohol, tomorrow would be a painful day. She ignored the thought and kept drinking until there was only a small amount left, that she poured into a bowl and lit the candles before sitting against the wall legs crossed. She stared into the flame of the candle and started murmuring quiety. "I conjure thee, I conjure thee, I conjure thee, who hast Willed us from our world to this world. I conjure thee oh Great Being, Oh Voice that is All Voices. I conjure thee oh Voice that is all Voices."

She kept that up until the candles started to burn down to runny puddles in the bowls and her eyes refused to stay open as the wine roared in her blood. She fell asleep sitting against the wall and Dreamed.

She stood in an inferno, the hot wind whipping her hair in every direction and cinders prickled and burned her face and hands. Her eyes watered and she tried to blink them clear as that familiar Voice surrounded her. " _You should not have come here. It is not safe for one such as you."_

"I had to!" Artemis shouted to make herself heard over the roar of the flames. "I need to know. I need to know why."

The flames disappeared abruptly and she was back in the Waiting Room the white walls, floor and ceiling nearly blinding. " _You were chosen."_ The Voice replied then another voice joined it, sibilant and grating, Artemis wanted to vomit just hearing it.

" _You were chosen." It mocked. "You and about a thousand others. You're not so special."_

The Voice rang through the room and Artemis's head hurt. " _She was Chosen, she and the other from among all the others."_

" _And what good have they done? Fixed a few broken threads, saved a few lives?"_ The evil voice crooned.

"Chosen for what?" Artemis grated out.

" _To save Reality."_ The Voice replied and it echoed.

" _Reality, that wasted dimension of foolish dreams."_ The sibilant voice sneered.

Artemis narrowed her eyes and with an effort of Will that left her gasping and nauseated pushed the Waiting Room away until she was free floating in blackness. A figure stood before her, it was more and less than human and she couldn't look right at it. "I want answers, from you, not the other one." She said breathing hard.

The Voice inclined its head and spoke. " _The Enemy was correct, you were one of almost a thousand selected but none of them have made it as far, none of them have survived."_

"Why were we Chosen, what were we Chosen to do?" Artemis asked feeling the alcohol swirling through her blood making it hard to think.

" _You were meant to be Chosen alone. The other was a surprise and we could not separate you, but that may be why you've survived."_ The Voice replied.

"Great, wonderful, Why?" Artemis asked her patience slipping.

" _To save Reality. Your world rests on the amalgamation of many other worlds. You are a witch, you understand extraplanar reality. All is one and yet separate."_

Artemis nodded. "Yes."

" _Your world could not exist without these others and they could not without yours. The Enemy has changed the other worlds, damaged them. You must set them right."_

Artemis ground her teeth. "We figured that part out, that we show up to fix something. But why?!"

" _The Enemy will destroy Reality, to remake it. It desires a Reality of Chaos to feed from forever and ever into eternity. This cannot be. Reality must be saved. Humanity can save it, you can save it."_

Artemis felt her stomach drop and her breath caught. "No… no it's too much…" She whispered.

" _There is no one else. Your companion isn't even meant to be involved, it must be you."_

"No! No I'm not enough! You can't dump all of this on me!" Artemis felt like she was going to puke.

" _You must."_

Artemis took a minute to get herself under control. "Tracey is as much a part of this as I am. She is why I do anything. Do you understand?"

" _No."_

Artemis sighed and tried to think through the fog. "Tracey makes me want to be better, to be stronger, smarter, faster. She believes in me and I have to live up to that. I can't save anything without her."

" _You must save Reality."_

"Why? It's not like it's that awesome. The Reality I live in is cruel and vicious and uncaring."

The darkness lit up with images of Middle Earth, of Greece, of New York, even of the Coast of Hong Kong. It lit up with thousands of images from thousands of stories and then music filled the silence. The images faded and gave way to art and sheet music, and figures dancing. " _Humanity can only express its truest potential through its creations. It can only show its truest value through its struggle to surmount the insurmountable. It can only show its truest Heart through its portrayals of love, valor, and beauty. Humanity created Reality as surely as Reality created Humanity and without one the other is useless and broken. Humanity will grow beyond this painful adolescence to transcend all else but only if Reality is saved. Only a Human can save Reality. You can save Reality, you must."_

Artemis swallowed painfully and felt tears on her face. "Only if you keep her safe. Only if you save Tracey if something happens to me, you have to send her back to Middle Earth if I die. Swear it or I will stop where we are and go no further."

The Voice was silent for several very long minutes. " _If you die in the effort I will save Tracey. I will send her back to Middle Earth."_

Artemis let out a choked breath. "You can't tell me what's been broken in each world can you?"

" _I cannot. Only a Human can set it right, I may only transfer you to each new world and wait and Battle the Enemy."_

"Why?" Artemis was starting to feel like a toddler.

" _We are fixed points in the Universes, we are like a machine that may only perform a handful of tasks and so we are not free. Only Humanity is free to change at will and you MUST be allowed to keep changing."_ The Voice that is all Voices said with a sense of quiet desperation. " _Reality depends on change else it will crumble to dust."_

Artemis felt her grip on the Dream fading, she heard a sibilant hiss and turned to see the Flames rushing towards her again. The Enemy was laughing madly as the fire raced towards her and she used all her remaining Will to drag herself back to her body where it sat in her room on the floor.

She was lying stiff and sore on the floor, the candles had long since gone out and she was cold, she tried to lift her head to see her clock but the effort felt like way too much, she curled in on herself a little more and drifted away on a hazy wine induced sleep again.

 **Phew... this chapter was intense to write and you have no idea how many times I rewrote it. All of these stories in every different universe are tied to this over arching story and I really want it to be a good one. Something that people want to come back to again and again. I really hope I did that. Please review?**


	6. Chapter 6

**In Which Sherlock gets some insight into Artemis and Tracey. Reviews get Good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

She woke up to a pounding headache and carefully made her way out into the living room expecting to see Tracey but all she saw was a note on the whiteboard saying that Tracey had gone out to get new phones. She went into the kitchen and greedily drank three glasses of water which made her feel a little better. She was tapping three aspirin into her palm when someone knocked on the door. She opened it and saw Sherlock standing there looking impeccable and almost otherworldly. "May I come in?"

She nodded and stepped back letting him in. He watched her as she went back to the kitchen and swallowed the pills. "You slept in those clothes and you have a hangover. That seems out of character for you."

She nodded and started making tea. "Rough night last night." She said quietly willing the pills to hurry up and work.

He sat down at the table and watched her. She fascinated him in a way no woman since Irene Adler had. He could only read surface details from her but all else about her was a mystery. "You said you would answer my questions."

Artemis nodded and set a cup of tea in front of him along with cream and sugar before sitting with her own cup. "Let me have one cup of tea before we start ok?"

He picked up his cup and doctored it before taking a miniscule sip, he blinked at the liquid in surprise and took a longer more appreciative sip, Hannah, 'No, Artemis, she wants to be addressed as Artemis.' He reminded himself, could make a really good cuppa.

He waited until she'd finished her tea and could see her pulling herself back together. It was a bit like watching someone put on armor he decided, she was arming herself for some kind of battle and it was a new thing for her. She wasn't the same person he'd spoken to the day before. 'No, she's changed somehow in the last 12 hours, she's…dangerous now, purposeful and ready. What changed?'

"What changed?" He asked while she fixed another cup of tea for herself.

She looked up from the tea and he could all but see the calculations running through those dark eyes then she relaxed and was back to the pleasant blankness she'd presented before, it was infuriating. "Nothing, I just drank too much last night and I feel like crap."

He fumed silently for a moment then decided to return to his original line of questions. "I tried to find you again last night with your real name, clever of you to travel with an alias."

"It's not an Alias, I told you that last night. The name Hannah Therrien has never fit me, never. Imagine if someone insisted on calling you John when you know very well that your name is Sherlock and they just kept on calling you John for all eternity. I am Artemis. I will always be Artemis and if I can ever get all the paperwork done to change my name Legally I will." She got up and rummaged in the fridge for some jam and popped some bread into the toaster.

"Regardless, I still couldn't find you online and in this day and age that is next to impossible without government intervention. Did Mycroft post you here to spy on me?" Sherlock watched her back trying to glean more data for his deductions.

"Who is Mycroft?" Artemis asked turning with a puzzled frown.

He studied that frown for a moment then decided on another tactic. "Where did you get the scar of your forearm?"

"A mugging a few months ago." She replied looking down at the still pinkish scar.

She spread jam on her toast and came back to the table setting a triangle down in front of Sherlock who looked at it like it would bite him. Artemis grinned and he felt something jolt through him at the smile. It was genuine, so unlike her blank pleasantness that he wanted to see more of the genuine emotion. Emotions puzzled him but living with John had given him a detached sort of appreciation for the real emotions that some people simply exuded. Tracey's emotions were all genuine, there was no guile in her and she was so easy to read. There were secrets there, she was hiding something, both women were but Tracey wore her heart on her sleeve and he was curious about the grief in her. "Why is Tracey grieving?"

Artemis hadn't been expecting that question he realized, her eyes widened just a touch, her hand twitched and she sat up a little more. "She lost someone, very recently. I know you don't believe in stuff like soul mates but Tracey's boyfriend was as close to a soul mate as any I've ever seen and now he's gone. Grief is a natural and healthy thing and she's working through it."

He had observed how close Tracey and Artemis were, anyone simply had to look at them to know they weren't sisters the way Artemis had put it to John but he suspected the bond was the same so he left that alone. "Why can't I find you online?"

"Why are you trying so hard?" Artemis asked.

"Because I need to know things. I hate not knowing and here you two are in the flat that was recently a part of a case of mine, a flat Mrs Hudson never seems able to rent out and you've got a six month lease. Had I been able to find you in a simple internet search I'd have been satisfied to leave it be, the details of your hopelessly mundane life would not be worth storing in my Hard Drive but now you are unknown quantities and that makes you dangerous." Sherlock hadn't realized he was leaning forward across the table until he realized he could feel Artemis's warm breath on his cheek.

He startled and leaned back watching her face, he realized that she had freckles and a few small scars on her face, he suddenly began cataloguing all the tiny wrinkles around her eyes, the smile lines around her mouth and in an effort to drag his wayward mind back to heel he made a handful of quick deductions. "You're over thirty but only by a few years, you eschew makeup which accounts for the health of your skin but you dye your hair to hide the gray that is creeping in with age, you have a flamboyant nature hence the red as opposed to your natural dark brown. Your heritage is French Indian with some Northern European mixed in as well, you've got the hair color and the cheekbones of the native american but the skin color is european, the vocal patterns are northeastern which means its French European but you're too pale to be just french so some close relative hails from northern europe."

Artemis smiled a little. "Sweden." She supplied and he nodded before continuing.

"You have had one child and are divorced, the child is not in your custody however and you see him infrequently, the tattoo on your bicep has his name and date of birth, since you are a caring and dedicated person he must live a great distance from you hence the infrequency of visits but you bear no rancor to your ex-husband so he is not keeping you from visiting your child. Why don't you visit him?" He was surprised that he was genuinely curious about that fact.

Artemis sighed a little. "Well you're right on one thing, he lives a long way from me, over 2000 miles. I can't afford to fly to see him, rent a car and a hotel room very often and it's awkward to stay with my ex, especially now that he's remarrying. I see my son about once a year and we talk a lot on the phone and on skype."

He nodded. "Why can't I find you online?" He asked again.

Artemis pondered her answer for a moment and had opened her mouth to answer when someone knocked on the door. She frowned and went to the door peering through the peephole before answering it. Lestrade strode in and gave Sherlock a curious look when he saw that Sherlock was sitting at tea with Artemis as civil as you please. "Sherlock you weren't answering your phone." He said to cover his confusion.

"I left it upstairs, oh don't look so shocked Lestrade, I am capable of having civil conversation with a woman." Sherlock stood and walked over to the door, he realized with a bit of a jolt that Artemis was really a lot shorter than he or Lestrade. It wasn't like him to have skewed perceptions, she just seemed much taller, her presence was compelling and he had to shove the thought aside to focus on Lestrade.

"There's a case. Its at least a 7. John is at the surgery so you'll be on this alone for now." Lestrade said ushering him out of the flat.

Artemis watched them both go, Lestrade giving her a polite wave as he rode herd on Sherlock who was already making deductions before they had even gotten to the top of the stairs. She closed the door and locked it with a small sigh. "I'm going to have to come up with some sort of answer for him." She mused and went for her laptop.


	7. Chapter 7

Tracey had finally managed to find a store that sold the prepaid phones she wanted and had gotten them activated. She considered going back to the flat but decided to stop for a quick lunch and give Artemis more time to wake up. When she walked out of the cafe after having enjoyed a superb grilled cheese sandwich and cup of soup she was surprised at how empty the street was. It unnerved her a little and she quickened her pace. She was surprised when a sleek black car pulled up and a woman opened the door from the inside. "Would you mind coming with me please?"

Tracey stiffened her posture and shouldered her messenger closer to her body, looping it diagonally over her chest and making it harder for anyone to snag it from her and made a run for it. She gazed and the rather pretty lady from the car door and then looked over the car. It was like any standard black, British London car and she raised an eyebrow at the woman and rolled her eyes.

"Such a fan for the dramatics aren't we." She mused and then stepped closer to the car. "Usually I would mind, but if it means a free ride home, I'll take it."

Tracey knew of only two people who would do this in London and one of the two was nowhere to be seen so that left the only other one possible. She'd find out if she was right in a little while, but she was pretty sure she was going to see the man who had his fingers in so many of London's pies.

The car dropped her off at a rather upscale cafe where instead of tables scattered in an open area there were private cubicles. The decor was very japanese with seshi screens in place of the doors for the cubicles and rather than the usual hum and clatter of a busy cafe, voices murmured like the slow slosh of the sea on a sandy beach. A thin man in a dark suit escorted her to a cubicle in the back and told her to make herself comfortable. A few minutes later Mycroft Holmes settled into the seat opposite and the seshi screen was drawn closed. Tracey sat down on a very large, very plush and comfortable pillow and crossed her legs under her and her back straight. She had set her messenger bag beside her and folded her hands into her lap, waiting for her "date" to arrive. When he did, she just watched him with her hazel eyes, the rest of her face completely impassive until she spoke.

"Good afternoon Governor, are you ready to get chummy and have a spot of tea with me?" Tracey asked, mimicking a British accent and smirking a little before she could help herself and returning to her normal speech. "You could have called me before setting up this little get together... I'm pretty sure you and your intelligence agency already have our new numbers."

He gave her a meaningless smile and waited while a waitress set a large teapot, two cups and saucers and a tray of cream, sugar and lemon slices down. Once she'd left shutting the seshi screen behind her Mycroft started pouring tea for them both. "I much prefer face to face meeting. Especially with people who do not technically exist."

"Aw now that's interesting." She replied, giving him a smile and blowing on her tea to cool it. "If I don't exist then how am I here at this moment... the only reason that you and yours thinks we don't exist is because you haven't been able to find anything on us. And you find that just a little frustrating, don't you."

She stirred in her sugar and then sipped, not wanting to burn her lips or her tongue. Picking up a menu, Tracey ticked off the sushi that she was feeling a craving for and then waited for their waitress to come back. She watched Mycroft and studied him in silence. He sipped his tea for a moment then set it down. "It is incredibly frustrating. I imagine Sherlock must be all a dither over it. I'm going to be frank, especially since you tasered my brother and I found that highly amusing. "Who are you? Why are you here and who sent you?"

Tracey couldn't help but giggle and set down her teacup on its saucer, recalling Sherlock's twitching body on the floor of her bathroom. She looked at Mycroft and rested her hands in her lap again.

"Now why should I tell you anything about myself and whom I keep company with Mycroft?" Tracey retorted with, smirking and resting her chin in the palm of her hand and her elbow on the table. "Oh and Sherlock is, he's out of his ever loving mind too. He assaulted me only seconds after I returned to my apartment and not a few hours before dinner he snuck into our apartment to be a creeper."

Mycroft shook his head. "He's not a creeper. I doubt he's ever entertained any lascivious thoughts about a woman… or a man for that matter. He was looking for clues in his own inept way. I am doing you the courtesy of asking directly, I can be indirect if you prefer but I prefer to be much more civilized."

"An unfortunate quality that your brother lacks." Tracey answered off-handedly and took another sip of her tea and smiling. "Oh what the heck, since you're buying me lunch I guess it can't hurt to answer a few of your questions to the best of my abilities."

The waitress came forward and took their orders, coming back within fifteen minutes with their food and placing them on the table. Tracey picked up her chopsticks and ate a few pieces of sushi, closing her eyes and savoring the taste before tapping her chopsticks on her plate and looking back up to Mycroft.

"Can't tell you who sent us... We're here on business to sell our handcrafted items at a series of conventions around London and my name is Tracey."

He looked at her for a long minute before speaking again. "I have access to the kind of information that can make or break the world and I have yet to find anyone who knows a thing about you. No social security numbers, passport data, tax information, nothing. You live in the flat beneath my brothers and are for all intents and purposes a ghost. Now I am going to offer you a once in a lifetime opportunity. Tell me honestly, are you here on any business regarding myself, my brother or anything that could bring harm to England or the Queen?"

Tracey blinked and let her face become impassive again. She studied him and after several moments she spoke again.

"I told you that I would answer your questions to the best of my abilities and I have. I don't know if any of our extracurricular activities will involve you, Sherlock, or London in general, but they will if Sherlock insists on sneaking around my apartment and I will taser him again if he doesn't learn about personal space very soon."

"I should imprison you in the most hidden facility I have at my disposal." He murmured sipping his tea.

"But you won't because what pretenses could you possibly have to do that Mycroft?" She snapped, slowly narrowing her eyes at him. "I answered your silly little questions and you should be grateful I even got in the car and showed up here at all. I owe you nothing and neither does my companion, so let it go and focus on your present situation."

Tracey sat up straighter and grabbed for her bag. She looped the strap over her shoulder again prepared to get up and leave even if her plate wasn't empty. He looked up at her his eyes empty as a dolls and about as emotional. "I wouldn't need a pretense. As it stands I am disinclined to cause a potential international incident so I will let you leave with one warning. Do nothing that would make me regret leaving you and your friend to roam free." His voice was cold and the tone sent a chill through her.

"You Holmes boys are all the same... dramatic and full of yourselves." Tracey muttered, sliding open the Seshi screen doors, putting on her shoes and slamming the door shut behind her.

Leaving the nice cafe, she looked up at the sign and committed it to memory. She wanted to bring Artemis back here after a time and completely ignored the black car that brought her here and hailed herself a cab from the edge of the curb. Giving the cab driver her apartment's address, she glanced out the window as Mycroft emerged from the cafe and then shook her head. She had been riding in the cab for about twenty minutes and still didn't feel any better, she still fumed the entire ride. She checked the time on her phone and realized that she should have been back to the flat. The traffic was light and the cab was moving at a comfortable clip but they were no where near anything she recognized as being near Baker Street.

Tracey tapped on the glass divider that separated any passenger from the driver and tried to get the driver's attention.

"Excuse me, but this isn't the way back to Baker Street. Where are you taking me?"

The driver ignored her and took another turn. She wasn't sure where the driver was taking her but it seemed like they were headed into Londons Factory district.

'Damn it, not again.' Tracey thought to herself, remembering the last three times this had happened to her and the first thing she didn't do was panic.

Taking out her phone from her bag, she checked the signal and growling low in her throat because there wasn't a signal. She studied the window closely the realized there would be no kicking it out or even cracking it a little, it was all reinforced and this got her thinking. Why would this cab driver need to drive her around in a reinforced cab unless they didn't know something about her already.

'This is going to get interesting and the first chance I get, I'm cracking some skulls.' She thought to herself, looking around at her surroundings in case they would be important later. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me where we're going or who you're working for... are you?... Not even a little hint?"

The driver stayed silent but within a few minutes he had pulled the car into an underground loading dock at a factory that looked like it had seen better days. The driver got out of the car and left back the way he'd come leaving her locked in the vehicle. Not more than 90 seconds later the car filled with gas and Tracey could feel herself sliding away. She didn't lose consciousness but her ability to form a coherent thought fled and she found herself engulfed in hopeless giggles. The door opened and a tallish man with light brown hair hauled her out. "Put her with the other one." Another voice said to the side and the first man hauled her to a room down a short damp hallway and pushed her in before shutting the door.

She heard the door lock as she struggled to pick herself up only to be helped up. "Easy, easy, I've got you." A familiar voice said and she looked up the arms into John Watsons calm face.

Tracey's hazel eyes narrowed and she grasped Watson's arms, trying to get her balance back. She looked around at their encasement and couldn't see much because the lights were very dim.

"John do you... know why we're here?" She asked slowly, blinking and trying to clear her head and took deep breaths. "Where did they grab you from?"

He tilted her head back so he could see her pupils. "They grabbed me on my way home from my shift at the surgery." He led her over to a stiff cot and sat her down.

Easing herself onto the cot and then shifting until she was comfortable, Tracey pushed her hair back from her face and let out a tired sigh. She shook her head and clenched her fists until her knuckles popped. Flexing her fingers out again, she patted around her pants pockets and then her messenger bag at was surprised that whoever kidnapped her had left her with everything she had been carrying with her. She smirked and shook her head, that could cost them dearly if Artemis and or Sherlock didn't find them first.

"What did they look like?" She asked, swatting away his hands and starting to rub her temples. "Don't fuss, did they gas you too?"

"I am a doctor, I'm supposed to fuss. Yes they gassed me too. I suspect it was to keep us from taking a swing at them." John replied firmly and gave her a faint reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it won't be long before Sherlock comes bounding in here all energy and cheer. It's what he's good at.

Tracey shook her head and got up from the cot.

"No way am I sitting on my ass and waiting for Sherlock to play his little mind games..." She growled, starting to run her hands over the walls carefully so as not the cut her skin, muttering under her breath. "No one is saving me anymore, I'm tired of this bullshit."

"There's no way out. I've been over this whole room. No grates, one very very small air vent and only one door." John said watching her stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Then I'll kick their asses." She replied, shaking her head and feeling her hand pass over the doorknob. "I'm going to go out on a limb that the gas will come through the air vents if they need to move us or if they need to dispose of us when our value to them is gone. But if we can take the bolts out of the hinges the we can open the door, of course this is assuming that they're not rusted in place."

She ran her fingers over the hinges and looked at them for a while, trying to see if they would have any luck messing with them at all or if they should just kick the kidnappers' ass.

As it turned out the pins for the hinges were on the other side of the very locked door. John sat down on the cot and watched her a faint smile on his face, he waited for her to face him again before he spoke. "I wonder which one they're after. Sherlock or Artemis. Or maybe both since they have both of us. Now might be a good time to tell me what you and Artemis have landed yourself in."

Tracey could only sigh and shake her head at John and his statement.

"I would even know where to begin to tell you John, Artemis and I just got back. Funny how a day or so later I get jumped for talking to Sherlock and now Mycroft." Tracey retorted, crossing her arms under her chest. "Kind of makes me think that Mycroft may have set up this little kidnapping to scare me on purpose... I wouldn't put it passed him since he threatened to lock me away in "his most hidden facility" and look at where we are now..."

She swept an arm to indicate their little dungeon cell and sighed. Tracey shook her head and then looked up at the vent and stared at it for a long time, judging it's width and then looking at her own body mass. She was contemplating on seeing if she could fit, but if she couldn't then it would be a good idea to stuff a blanket if the vent actually did release gas to kick them out or kill them.

"This isn't Mycrofts style." John replied. "He may be a dramatic git but his dramatics are more refined.

He let the silence stretch out a little longer before he spoke again. "You're handling this far better than most civilians would."

Tracey dropped her gaze from the vent and then looked at John again, a small smile on her lips and resting her hands on her hips.

"Let's just say this isn't my first time getting kidnapped and this isn't my first hostile environment." She answered, letting out a frustrated breath. "You served in Afghanistan, well I lived in Israel for three years and that was a little dangerous, especially after September 2001. That wasn't the best time for Americans, especially those living there and my family and I did get evacuated and sent back to the U.S."

He nodded. "Fair enough I suppose. Look we're gonna be here a while, let's at least try to make it less unpleasant. Tell me about your business."

Tracey made a noise that sounded like a laugh and then nodded. She sat down on the cot beside John and conversed with him.

"Believe it or not, despite Artemis's brutally honest personality and straightforward attitude, she'll tell you that I bullied her into starting our business together. Artemis and I met at a Halloween party that I really hadn't planned on attending if it wasn't for another friend of mine who was going to be there later. The host and hostess and I weren't exactly chummy so I kept to myself until Artemis and I were introduced and started talking about the things we liked to do. Crafting and sewing clothes and costumes were a great starting conversation and then I started to produce a few pieces myself and with Artemis's help we started to sell them at our local conventions around in Tennessee. We had many successes and it just grew from there."

"I'd say it was successful, you two did well enough to go international." John commented.

Tracey was about to reply when they heard a faint hissing noise from near the door. Tracey felt her head going fuzzy and John already had a vacant look on his face. "John?... Wha... John!" She called out as loud as she could, feeling her head beginning to swim. "Damn... it."

She looked over to the door where she heard the gas coming from and swore that she didn't hear it before now. Gripping John's arm, Tracey felt herself getting weaker and she slumped against him, coughing several times.

"Ba-Bastards..." She growled, glaring at the door. "I will... kill you."

The door opened and a pair of muscular men stepped in and to either side of the door. A tall lanky figure dressed in an expensive suit that seemed so out of place in this dank dark room. "Aren't you two getting chummy?" The voice held a faint sing song tone to it. "Dr. John Watson and Ms Tracey Denio. You Ms Tracey are so very hard to find, I had to pilfer through the land lady's records to find anything about you. So demeaning to have to get my hands grubby."

Tracey looked up at the tall man and started laughing low in her throat, her eyes rolling up until they met his and then the laughter grew and she became more verbal.

"Aw poor baby, you had to get your hands dirty for little ol' me? Poor baby boy, that's life." She spat, glaring hard at him now. "What much drama for a little kidnapping, hardly seems worth your time to bother with me or my companion... so what do you want Moriarty? Do you want to get chummy too because I hate to break it to you... I don't want any new friends."

He got a dangerous gleam in his eye and his lips curved up. "Oh we'll get very chummy. You see I promised Sherlock a long time ago that if he kept meddling I would burn the Heart out of him. And now my sources say your friend," He voice made a cruel irony out of the word friend. "Is digging into my affairs as well. So I'll rip two hearts out for the price of one."

"Well you know Sherly, has to know everything about everyone and all their business." Tracey laughed, shaking her head at him. "Guess that's one of the reasons why I tasered his ass, but that was mostly for my pleasure... Anyway, it couldn't be helped since unfortunately we're living in the same apartment building. It's not like my companion and I chose this outcome."

"You tased Sherlock Holmes?" Moriarty laughed high and delighted. "Oh I would have paid a lot to see that. Not that it changes anything. I'm going to lead your girlfriend on a lovely chase and Sherlock will follow her like a hound after bacon."

"Not her girlfriend." John slurred.

Moriarty sneered at him. "Don't speak John, you lower the intelligence of the whole room."

Tracey laughed a little and shook her head at an inside joke that she wouldn't share and then shrugged.

"Sorry John, I'm not laughing at you, just something else." She said, patting his arm and then letting her arm go limp. "Suit yourself and have fun, this should get interesting... oh, I guess I couldn't trouble you for some water?"

Moriarty shook his head. "Not yet. Boys…"

The two muscular men moved forward, one grabbed Tracey and the other pinned John down while Moriarty moved forward and used a small pair of scissors to clip off a lock of their hair then used the points of the scissors to cut a line across Tracey's cheek and dipped the lock of hair in the blood. He did the same to John and left the room. The muscle men let them go and left the room before either of them could react. The door closed and the lock slid home with a sharp snap leaving Tracey and John to recover from the gas in the dim light.

"Bastard!" Tracey screeched, wiping her fingers across her cheek and flinched in pain. "I will kill you!"

She promised herself that for sure. Looking at John, she touched his cheek tenderly and made him look at her. Tracey thanked her lucky stars that they had left her bag and dug around in it for a few minutes withdrew a small pouch. She pulled out a few gauze pads and a band-aid for him to use before she gingerly touched her own cheek and tended to it.

"John, are you okay?"

He seemed to come around when she touched his cheek and coughed a little. "Hmm? Yes, yes, I'm sorry. I've always been a bit sensitive to drugs… Sorry." He took the gauze and pressed it to his cheek.

"So I see John... now we need to get it together and eventually they'll bring us water and we can rehydrate ourselves." Tracey said, closing her eyes against the pounding headache that she was starting to feel and breathed slowly. "Perhaps when they bring us the water I'll taser them and then we'll make a break for it... of course this is assuming that they don't gas us again just to give us the water."

She didn't like waiting like this and knew that Artemis and probably Sherlock would be getting their hair and blood at any time within the next hour and she'd be damned if she just sat there and waited for them to show up.

"Do you have any thoughts about how we're going to get out of here?"

"Not a one." John said quietly rubbing his forehead tiredly. "For now lets try to rest. We've been gassed twice within two hours and the adrenaline and stress are exhausting us. We need to be rested when the opportunity presents itself."

Tracey knew that he was right, but she was reluctant to fall asleep or rest at all.

"I don't want to miss the opportunity to jump them when they bring us water John, it could be our only chance to get out." She muttered, shaking her head. "I promised them a lot of pain."

"I'll keep watch. I'll wake you as soon as I head the key in the lock I swear." John said quietly.

She studied him for a moment and then nodded.

"Okay." She whispered, giving his arm a light squeeze. "I'm going to have a hold of my taser while I'm resting so if they do get close I'll get them... Thank you John."


	8. Chapter 8

**Dundundun... how are Sherlock and Artemis going to react to their friends being taken? As always Revies are rewarded with Good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

Artemis was starting to get antsy, it had been hours since she'd gotten up and she assumed that Tracey had been gone for at least an hour before she woke up and Tracey still wasn't back. She was getting worried about her friend and had put her shoes on on the verge of going out to look for her when someone knocked on the door. She peered through the peephole and frowned seeing the postman at the door; she opened the door and smiled. "Hi!"

He smiled back and handed her a small package wrapped in a yellow bubble mailer. She took it and smiled. "Thanks."

"Of course miss, D'you know the bloke what lives upstairs?" The postman asked looking up the stairs a little hesitantly.

Artemis grinned. "Yeah, I know him, he's a weird one."

"Yeah… yeah… um listen miss, I have another package for him but the last time I was up there he… well miss he tried to do somethin' funny to me. I don't rightly want to go back up there, I usually leave his mail with the land lady but she's not here right now. Can you take it to him?" The poor postman looked like he wanted to pass out.

Artemis held out a hand. "Yeah, no problem darling. I can handle him."

The postman handed her another yellow bubble mailer and all but ran out of the building in relief. Artemis smiled slightly and went back into the apartment locking the door behind her out of habit, it didn't take her long to open the bubble mailer with her name and address on it, oddly it was her legal name but she shrugged and pulled out a white cardboard box, similar to one she'd have used to store a necklace in. She hadn't even started to open it when her door crashed in scaring the hell out of her and Sherlock was striding across the floor. "Where is he?!" He roared grabbing her shoulders.

She reacted instinctively and hooked her foot behind Sherlock's ankles flipping him down but this time he was ready for her and he rolled her to the side trying to pin her beneath his longer frame. She got one knee up against his chest and grabbed his left forearm with her right and pulled to the right pulling him off balance and twisting her other arm up to bring his face down onto her elbow. Surprisingly he didn't seem to care how much that had to hurt. He rolled them over and over until she felt her head hit the chair leg and the world went white for a second. He took advantage of the shock to pin her down and leaned in his eyes bright and hard. "Where is John, where has your 'friend' taken him." He spat the word friend.

"How the fuck would I know?! Tracey has been missing all day too." She tried to wriggle free and he ground her wrists into the floor making her hiss in pain. "Sherlock stop trying to break my wrists and think. If Tracey had John why would I be here? Why would I wait for you to break into my flat and try to beat the shit out of me?"

He squeezed a little more and Artemis hissed again a thread of fear creeping into her blood. "Fuck Sherlock stop! Please stop!" Her voice edged a little higher and she hated that.

He frowned at the sudden emotion in her voice and leaned up looking at her again, feeling her wrist bones under his hands, he wasn't a doctor but he could feel the lumps of calcification under her skin on her bones, he stared at her face and saw old fear, could smell old fear on her and it suddenly clicked into place. She'd been abused, systematically for years from the level of fear and, resignation? He thought she almost seemed resigned to being hurt even as she fought against it. But she'd learned to protect herself, she'd taken steps to never be a victim again.

He was muttering the deductions outloud and he saw the old shame flare in her eyes but she refused to look away. He slowly loosened his grip on her wrists and watched the blood coming back into the skin and felt an odd pang of shame himself realizing that they would bruise. He moved slowly leaning up and away from her and the shame intensified as she scrambled back away from him until her back bumped against the couch and she was shaking holding her hands in close against her abdomen. He sagged on the floor trying to organize the whirlwind that was his thoughts and stared at her suddenly bloodless face as she struggled not to cry. He swallowed hard as bile crept up his throat, he wasn't opposed to hurting people but he'd never intentionally abused a woman, he scooted closer hands out. "I'm sorry, Artemis… I'm sorry."

She didn't flinch and he felt a sense of admiration at the strength in her, he carefully took her hands his long fingers smoothing over the bruises that were already starting. "I'm sorry."

She nodded and swallowed letting out a shaky breath then another more steady one. "Ok."

They sat like that for a few moments longer while she got herself under control then she stood up and walked to the door shutting it, more wedging it closed since the latch was shattered, she walked into the kitchen and shakily put the kettle on for tea then stooped down to pick up the little box that had fallen on the floor while Sherlock took a careful seat at the table, he heard her choked gasp and his head snapped around watching her drop the small white box her shaking hand holding a lock of dark hair matted with something. He saw her legs starting to go and he sprang up catching her. "Artemis…"

He took the hair and recoiled at realizing it was blood matting the strands. His keen gaze caught sight of the open bubble mailer then the unopened one with his name on it. 'The postman asked her to deliver it to me.' His mind supplied remembering the postman's lingering hesitance to deliver to his flat after that unfortunate incident with the tank of spiders.

He carefully lowered her to the floor and pressed her head between her knees then grabbed the second bubble mailer and tore it open spilling another box out and yanked that open revealing a dirty blond lock of hair matted with blood. His mind spun like a car stuck in deep mud and he could hear ringing in his ears. Artemis was sitting up against the cabinets and he could see her carefully constructed mental armor breaking, he wanted to stop the cracks in her armor, wanted to hold it together and he didn't know why. He reached out and pulled her towards him his long fingers pressing her ribs, moving to her arms as he chased the cracks in her armor as his mind spun out of control and his eyes caught hers the edges blurred and spiderwebbed with cracks, she was crying and that made him want to hurt something. The urge to strike out at something was no real shock to him, he was familiar with violent impulses and even embraced them from time to time but this time he forced himself to resist and pulled her in towards him. She struggled and shook her head, speaking he thought but the ringing in his ears kept him from hearing her. She was struggling and her fists struck his arms, his chest but she was too shaken, too much in shock to be effective and he coiled himself around her. "Stop, stop, Artemis stop!"

She sagged against him and he felt her shaking, his sense of hearing returned in bits and pieces. He heard her crying, gasping for air and he realized she was hyperventilating, in his head he heard Johns voice. 'Control her breathing or she'll pass out.'

He cupped his hand over her mouth careful to leave her nose clear. "Artemis breath! Breath slowly through your nose or you'll faint."

She finally seemed to hear him and struggled to slow her runaway breath. As she breathed he breathed with her and felt some of his own calm returning. He slowly took his hand away and reached into his pocket for his phone. He hit the speed dial for Lestrade and in a monotone told him to come to Artemis's flat then hung up and kept his hold on Artemis, it seemed important to keep holding her, he didn't feel totally in control himself and the feel of her hands on his arms, gripping him as tightly as he was gripping her helped. When Lestrade pushed the door open he had a gun out but he lowered it when he saw Sherlock and Artemis on the floor, Artemis's face was so pale he thought he could see the tiny veins under her skin. Sherlock didn't look much better, Lestrade was a good enough detective to wonder at the bruise on Sherlock's temple and the bruises around Artemis's wrists but he refocused on the more immediate problem.

"What's happened Sherlock." He asked putting the gun up and kneeling down his hands touching Artemis's arm then Sherlock's, they were both ice cold, in shock he realized and he started to pull his phone out but Sherlock stopped him. "We'll be fine. But Tracey and John are missing." He pointed to the locks of hair on the kitchen floor. "And whoever did it sent us a message."

Lestrade put on a glove and picked up one of the bloody locks. "When did these arrive?"

"Less than an hour ago." Artemis replied and tried to sit up away from Sherlock.

"Why didn't you call when they arrived?" He asked.

"Because I lost my mind for a few minutes ok?" She snapped then closed her eyes and took a deep breath that shook a little then opened her eyes and looked at Lestrade with hard dark eyes. "Because I freaked out and Sherlock had to keep me from passing out."

Sherlock did something so out of character for him that Lestrade almost called an ambulance just to be sure he didn't have some sort of brain injury. He wrapped his arms around Artemis shifting her a little closer and ran a long fingered hand through her tousled red hair trying to sooth her. She closed her eyes again and Lestrade watched the tension ease out of her shoulders, he turned his head when he heard Anderson and Donovan coming down the stairs and Sherlock tensed which made Artemis tense up again, Donovan entered first and her face registered shock, Andersons was more comical and Lestrade opened his mouth to warn them off saying anything smart arsed but Donovan beat him to the punch. "Oh look, the Freaks found a girlfriend."

Lestrade realized he'd put himself between Donovan and the pair who had stood and been leaning against the counter regaining their composure and wondered if he really wanted to be standing there when Artemis's eyes eyes focused on Donovan with such intense anger that he wondered if there was going to be a murder. Artemis disentangled herself from Sherlock and Anderson smirked. "No need to stop cuddling on our account." He said and Lestrade felt his stomach drop into his shoes.

Artemis smiled sweetly and walked over to Anderson and Donovan. "Care to repeat that?" She asked sweetly.

"Well it doesn't surprise me the Freak would have to find a Yank. No girl in England could put up with him." Donovan said unaware of Artemis's true mood.

Sherlock watched with unbridled curiosity, Artemis had gone from shaken and shocky to calm, collected and on edge in less than a minute. Artemis stood in front of Donovan and held up a hand then started folding down fingers as she ticked off points in a dangerously calm and quiet voice. "One, I have just had the worst shock I've had in a very long time. Two, I am scared, I am hurt and I am having a very hard time coping, Three it is no ones business who I fucking cuddle with or who he allows to cuddle him, four it is incredibly unprofessional for two detectives of Scotland Yard to make comments like that in front of or to a victim." She held up her thumb and folded it down. "And five that is the last time you will call him Freak." She pointed a finger at Donovan then moved it to Anderson. "And that you will slander or deride him. I will be filing a formal complaint with the head of your department, I will also file that complaint with your human resources and if I have to by all the Gods I hold Holy I will sue you until your great grandchildren are paying settlements to mine."

Anderson swallowed hard, the look on her face was cold, angry and dangerous but Donovan was less phased and she did not take kindly to being threatened by an American. She leaned in to Artemis and Sherlock realized again that Artemis was the shortest person in the room, Donovan tried to loom over Artemis and Artemis tilted her chin defiantly. "Now listen Yank, you don't have the right to do any of that and how dare you threaten us?"

Sherlock spoke up his quiet voice dropping like a pebble into a glass of water. "Actually, she does. She is technically a resident under a Work Visa and she is renting from a british citizen. She is entitled to all the protections offered by Scotland Yard as both a visitor and a Visa Resident which also includes to right to register formal complaints and file lawsuits against officers of British Law."

Donovan felt her stomach drop and she paled as Artemis raised an eyebrow, she hadn't moved and stayed still even when Sherlock stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. Donovan swallowed but it was Anderson who spoke up first. "My apologies Sherlock."

Donovan repeated the words and neither of them protested when Lestrade sent them away. Artemis stepped gently away from Sherlock and went into the bathroom. He watched her go then looked back at Sherlock. "You should keep her."

Sherlock had moved back to the Bubble Mailers which he lifted carefully to the table. "She's not mine." He said absently inspecting the hand written labels.

Lestrade leaned in ostensibly to inspect the Mailers and smirked a little. "Sherlock, she likes you, you like her. It's ok, healthy even."

Sherlock ignored him. "The Mailers never went through a postal sorter, there's no postmark which means the postman was given these directly. The lettering is hand done by someone who thinks very highly of themselves." He lifted one up and peered into the envelope. "No hair or particles, very careful and forensically sophisticated." He sniffed the envelopes exterior then the interior. "The interior smells musty, wherever it was packed is damp, moldy."

He straightened and picked up on of the boxes turning it over in his fingers his pale eyes intense. Lestrade sighed and picked up the other box, a few blondish hairs still clung to the inside and he carefully put the lock of Johns hair back into the box. He held his hand out for the other box and Sherlock reluctantly gave it back so Lestrade could put Tracey's lock of hair inside. He pulled a pair of evidence bags out and labeled them before slipping the boxes and envelopes into them. Artemis came out of the bathroom her face washed, hair brushed and looking more herself. "Artemis, are you feeling up to answering some questions."

She nodded and walked into the kitchen turning the electric kettle back on, Sherlock watched her, his eyes cataloguing her motions as she fixed a cup of tea and started speaking. "I was getting worried about Tracey, she left before I got up this morning."

"Is that normal?" Lestrade asked.

"Sometimes. I am not a morning person, I go to bed around 2am most days and don't get up til ten unless we have a convention. And I had a lot to drink last night."

"Why?" Lestrade asked pulling his notepad out.

Artemis shrugged turning her hands wrapped around a mug of tea. "I'm in a new country, I've been a little stressed over this newest business expansion, this is our first foray into international conventions and I want to keep doing it but I'm scared the money won't work out. I'm also just out of a breakup and I was lonely and frustrated and depressed. Plus Tracey tased Sherlock and she's really on edge over the conventions and the money and she just broke up with her boyfriend too so she's wound tighter than a spring. It got to me."

Lestrade looked at Sherlock in amused surprise. "You got tased last night?"

"Yes." Sherlock replied simply

"Well Lord knows I've thought of it a time or two." He turned back to Artemis. "So you drank heavily. What time did you get up?"

"Around 11ish. I got up then Sherlock came for tea, you came to get him about an hour after that." She glanced at the clock which read 6:37pm.

"Where was Tracey planning to go today?"

"To get some phones. We were using our phones from the States but the international charges were killing us so we decided to pick up some prepaid phones to tide us over." Artemis sipped her tea mechanically.

"Do you know when she planned to be back?" Lestrade asked.

"No, but Tracey is a homebody, I'm the one most likely to go exploring and get lost, she'd have gone to get the phones, maybe stopped for a quick lunch or to get some take out then come home. She'd have stayed out for maybe three hours tops."

"Have you had any threats, have you been involved in anything that would put a target on you?" Lestrade was running short of questions and Artemis shook her head.

"No, nothing like that. We sell tchotchkes to geeks and nerds, we're geeks and nerds ourselves. And neither of us is the criminal type. I mean Tracey gets twitchy when I buy pot at home."

Lestrade raised an eyebrow and Artemis snorted. "I haven't bought any here. I have a chronic stomach problem. I get these really painful spasmodic episodes and when I'm at home where it's legal I use an extract to help manage the pain. But since it's not legal here I don't use it."

He nodded. "Ok, I need your full name and Tracey's for the file."

She sighed. "Tracey's name is Tracey Denio. Mine is Hannah Therrien." She spelled it out for him.

"Artemis is an Alias?" Lestrade asked.

"No, Artemis is my chosen name. I don't like my birth name." She replied with a sigh and ran her hands through her hair.

"Alright, I'll keep calling you Artemis then. Try to stay calm, don't do anything reckless and if you receive any further communications call me immediately." Lestrade said and closed his notebook before handing her a card.

"I'll need to go get a phone then." Artemis replied.

"I'll go with you." Sherlock interjected and Lestrade gave him a wry look.

"Thanks." Artemis rubbed her hands down her thighs and gave a slight smile. "Do you have any other questions?"

Lestrade shook his head. "No, I have a few for Sherlock but we'll take them upstairs."

She nodded and they left her standing alone in her kitchen staring at the damaged door, her mind was spinning helplessly.

 **So I always hated how Donovan and Anderson talked to Sherlock, nt that he was the picture of politeness mind but in my head I think he demeans them so much because they started it first by calling him Freak all the time. And since Artemis is basically my avatar I decided to do something about it! Hope you liked. Pease review?**


	9. Chapter 9

Lestrade shut the door behind him when they got into Sherlock's flat. "So… why do you have a bruise on your temple and why are her wrists bruised?"

"John wasn't answering his phone and his shift at the surgery was long over. No one else had seen him in hours and I deduced, incorrectly, that Artemis and her friend might know. I over reacted and she corrected me rather aptly." Sherlock replied and began looking around for something in the mess of his sitting room.

"Uh huh… and how did you two end up… embracing on the kitchen floor?" Lestrade asked.

"When she showed me my error we went to have a calming cup of tea, for an American she believes rather strongly in the curative powers of tea. She opened a package and found the lock of hair from Tracey inside it. The postman left my package with her and I opened mine. Artemis was… overwrought and suffered a panic attack or maybe some kind of mental collapse and I had to offer her physical reassurance before she could calm herself." Sherlock looked down at his hands remembering the feel of her under his hands, how very fragile she had felt for a few minutes before he resumed his hunt through the desk.

"You know who has them don't you?" Lestrade asked.

Sherlock was silent as he dumped piles of papers across the floor and knelt down to search through the mess. He finally laid hands on what he'd been after and held it up. "I do now. Jim Moriarty."

The paper held a riddle written in the same handwriting as the envelopes and Lestrade felt his stomach bottom out again. "Moriarty has them… Fuck…" He sat down and ran a hand through his silvering hair. "Why did he take them?"

"I've been working at picking apart his network. I've been closing in on some of the key players in his performance." Sherlock said bounding around the room pointing out photographs pinned to the walls. "This man is one of his lieutenants." He bounded to another photo. "This one runs his drug rings and this one his human trafficking." He kept bouncing from photo to photo his face alight until he saw Artemis in the doorway looking around at the pictures on the walls.

"Why… would he take Tracey though…" She asked softly stepping in her satchel slung across her shoulders, her laptop case in hand.

He looked at the bulging satchel and frowned. "You're leaving?"

She shrugged. "The door is busted… And Mrs. Hudson is gone for the week to her sisters. I pulled the door as closed as I could, I'm pretty sure no one will bother our inventory but I don't feel safe sleeping down there… I was gonna go to a hotel."

Sherlock shook his head stepping forward and taking the laptop case. "Moriarty could have agents anywhere, and hotels are notoriously unsafe, you'll stay with me."

She let him have the case and looked around. "Why would he take Tracey?"

"Proximity perhaps, to put me off balance, to up the stakes of the Game." Sherlock said offhandedly looking around.

Artemis sat down in Johns chair and rubbed her face for a minute, Lestrade felt for her, most people in close proximity to Sherlock found themselves embroiled in some sort of mess. "I'm going to go start the file and begin the missing persons case."

Artemis got up and walked over to Sherlock who had her laptop case still in hand. She rummaged in one of the pockets and pulled out a thick envelope and a handful of glossy 4x6 photos. "These are for the missing persons report." She handed him the photos of Tracey. "This is my formal complaint regarding your officers. You'll have to fill in their names since I was too angry to catch them." She handed him the envelope.

"I don't suppose I can talk you out of that?" He asked taking both items.

"Would just you telling them to stop be enough?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

He sighed and shook his head. "It hasn't to this point."

"Then no. I want a formal complaint filed against them with your superior officer, with human resources and if they won't do anything I will take it further." She spoke quietly and not unkindly.

"Why? Why is how they speak to him so off putting for you when Sherlock has never once tried to put a stop to it?" Lestrade asked glancing at Sherlock who had set the laptop case down and had moved distractedly to review his files on Moriarty.

"Because it's wrong Lestrade. Its bullying and psychological abuse and it leaves scars. I'd put a stop to it no matter who the target was. I don't like bullies and I won't stand by and let anyone be abused. Not if I can stop it. Just because the victim of the abuse doesn't say anything doesn't mean they aren't being abused." She folded her arms.

Lestrade looked her over and felt a smile quirk at his lips. "You know John said something similar, he never filed a complaint though. I guess it's that American bluntness."

She smiled a little and he tapped the envelope against his palm. "I'll make sure this gets filed. I guess it's time I took a page from the Yanks."

He left without saying goodbye and Artemis sat down in Johns chair again. Sherlock seemed worlds away but his mind was whirring away at the problem as he stared at the photos trying to suss out the solution to this latest problem, Artemis's presence was a mild sensation, similar to John and he felt strangely comfortable around her, comfortable enough that he allowed himself to retreat to his mind palace in her presence.


	10. Chapter 10

Tracey didn't hear the door opening, neither did John for that matter, the drug was pumped in through a small hole in the door and they were both unconscious before they even knew what was really happening. When Tracey came to she was alone, her satchel and her taser gone. A cardboard tray with sliced bread, cheese and meat and a paper cup of water sat on the floor. There was no sign of John and for a split second she wondered if she had imagined him, her head was throbbing from the gas and she felt vaguely nauseated.

Slowly sitting up from the cot on which she was laying on and blinked sleep from her eyes. She had to rub the rest of the sleep away and growled quietly, wishing she still had her things. The lights were still dim and she did have to narrow her eyes so she could see as clearly as she could, but it didn't help much.

"I think they separated John and myself to work me over, but it's not going to happen. I'm not going to break that easy." She muttered while looking around at the corners of the room, noting there weren't any cameras and smiling at this. "Okay this is promising. If I can't get through the vent then I'll plug up that stupid hole in the door, fake my next dizzy spell and then get the jump on them..."

Tracey gave herself a small smile and nodded at her own plans. Hesitantly she looked at the food and started to pick at it, drinking the water slowly to conserve it until the rest of her food was eaten.

"Then I'll have to be careful and try to find John... I hope he's okay."

The plan was a good one, what she hadn't counted on however was the waiting. No one came for her, she didn't hear any movement outside the door at all and the waiting was starting to drive her a little nuts.

Tracey flopped back on the bed, tired of pacing from one end of the room to another and feeling along the walls for any other nooks. She sighed and glared at the door, completely and utterly bored.

"The least those asses could have left me my notebook and a pencil." She muttered angrily. "I could at least keep myself occupied with a new story or draw their fuggly mugs and then turn them over to the authorities after I got out... I'm so bored!"

There was no getting out and she had to accept that fact and wait until Artemis and Sherlock found her and John. If Sherlock did that then she'd never forgive herself for tasering him and she'd have to apologize. Tracey sighed heavily and pushed her hair out of her face, thinking about how John was doing and where he was. She also hoped that Artemis wasn't freaking out and knew she'd have to make it up to her for the inconvenience.

"This isn't turning out to be the day I was hoping for. What a pain and at least we have an eye witness so as to confirm that Moriarty is indeed alive... and unfortunately kicking."

She was left to stew in her own boredom for several more hours before the Door was opened, before she could get up off the cot and rush the door John was shoved in and the door slammed shut behind him the lock slamming home again and John lay unmoving on the floor. "Oh shit! John!" Tracey gasped, jolting up from the cot and running to him. "John! Answer me!"

Carefully rolling him over so she could see his face, Tracey noticed a few new bruises and his bleeding lip. She started to gently pat his cheek, hoping that he'd stir a little. When he didn't respond, she looped her arms under his and bodily dragged him to the cot. It took several minutes for her to get him onto the cot and then she torn a part of her shirt to wipe the blood from his lip.

"John, I need you to wake up right now." Tracey said quietly, worry setting in rather quickly. "John, John."

As she got him up on the cot she felt wet patches on his back and when he was laying on the cot his shirt stuck to his chest. Opening the shirt showed dozens of shallow cuts, some of them as long as a foot, some of them as short as an inch but they all seemed done with careful precision, she realized suddenly that she was seeing a map done in shallow slashes across his front. It was suddenly a blessing that he was unconscious.

Tracey's breathing became a little shuttered and she shook her head before she dabbed at his lip again. Taking off her short jacket, she took off her shirt and laid it over John's chest. Putting her jacket back on and buttoning it up again, she grimaced as she carefully and as gently as she could, pressed the cloth of her shirt to his skin. By doing this, the shirt's fibers took in John's blood and imprinted the map. Tracey carefully laid out the shirt at the foot of the cot and then returned to tending to John's wounds as best she could with as little as she had.

"John." She whispered, hoping he would come around soon. "John, can you hear me?"

He groaned his eyes squeezing tight as his breath caught in pain. "Tra-Tracey…" He wheezed and sucked in a painful breath.

Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, Tracey gave him a soft smile and then placed her hand on his shoulders, keeping him from rising and shaking her head.

"John you need to lay still... they cut you up pretty badly." She said, tending to his lip again. "You've received several shallow cuts and I need you to tell me what to do now. Artemis is the EMT and would know what would have to happen here, but I don't know... they didn't give me any supplies that would help in this situation."

He opened his eyes and lifted his head to look down at the ruin of his abdomen. "Not deep, just looks bad. Need to keep them clean."

"Okay, that I can do. I think I have a little water left over from when they brought me something to eat." Tracey replied, grabbing up the half a bottle of water from the cardboard tray her food had been on. "Lay back and I'll try to be as careful and gentle as I can."

Taking the hem of her long pants, Tracey had to use a good bit of her strength to tear through the fabric and taking off a large chunk. She helped John out of his shirt and then washed the cuts as best she could. Tearing another large strip from her pants, she dried the shallow wounds and then sighed and shook her head.

"Looks like I'm going to need a new pair of pants." She sighed, turning her long pants into shorts that stopped just above her mid-thigh. "But I can't complain about that since it's going to help us now."

This fabric she used to wrap around his chest and wished she had something to tie it up with before something clicked and she began to untie her shoes. Tracey took the laces from her tennis shoes and carefully secured them around the fabric of her pants. It was a make-shift bandage and unfortunately it was the best she could do with what she had, her only hope that it was going to be enough.

John lay still and his breathing deepened after a few minutes letting her know he'd fallen asleep. A cursory look at the shirt with the map laid out in bloodstains left her just a puzzled as she had been before. There were no landmarks or anything to indicate street names. It certainly was a puzzle for them to figure out, but for John's sake she and Artemis were going to figure it out.

"When we get out of this rat hole, I need a shower and a map." She mused to herself and moving some dirty blonde hair from John's face with another sigh. "If we can line up the map on my shirt with the intersections and all the other twists and turns than we'll be able to see what that asshole wanted us to see."


	11. Chapter 11

**And now we try to solve the puzzle. Reviews are rewarded with Good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

Sherlock was not someone who slept much, and he certainly didn't sleep at all when a case was on, especially one involving Moriarty. John and Tracey being in Moriarty's clutches added a whole new fervor to his efforts. He was sitting on the couch, fingers steepled under his chin his mind sifting through facts and information putting puzzle pieces together. He was jolted out of the meditative mindset when he heard a noise. He blinked and looked around seeing the heeled boots by the door, the satchel on the couch and the laptop sitting on the table, a case slung over the back of the chair. He felt a faint surge of something as he remembered that he had told Artemis she would stay with him while they tried to find Moriarty, the noise came again and he straightened sharply, it was a noise made in duress.

He got up and went to his room, he'd told her she could sleep in there since he almost never bothered, she was curled up in the center of the bed asleep but he could see it was far from peaceful. She was clutching the pillow her body twisting slightly as she whimpered and he wondered what she was reliving in her sleep. She cried out and he jumped as she sat bolt upright her eyes open but he could see she wasn't awake. She clutched at the scar on her arm as though it were fresh and screamed. "Dahok! No no no, Iolaus no!"

Sherlock was certainly not used to screaming women having violent flashbacks but his experience with John's flashbacks told him that touching her would be a very bad idea. He hurried to his violin and snatched it up the bow rising and he began to play, he wasn't even playing a recognizable song, he was just playing to give her a noise that would drag her out of the nightmare. He heard her come back to herself and wondered if he should go in and offer comfort but all of his deductions into her character said she wouldn't enjoy being seen in a weakened state, especially after having come apart earlier. He set the violin aside and made a cup of tea setting it on the tiny hall table near his door where she'd be sure to see it. He remembered the names she'd screamed and a cursory search through his Mind Palace yielded no answers, he decided to take to the internet and within ten minutes he was as confused if not more so by the results.

Dahok was the name of an ancient primordial God of chaos and destruction while the name Iolaus had only yielded ancient greek mythology. He heard Artemis take the tea cup and retreat back into the room but his mind was too busy trying to put together pieces of a puzzle for which there were too few pieces, Artemis had a deep slash to her arm, she'd had a flashback which meant the injury had been both mentally and physically traumatic, the tone of her voice on both names, the inflection in which she'd screamed the name Dahok meant that he was the aggressor, Iolaus was someone she feared for, was close to but for her to react that way it was likely that he was dead. Odd that he hadn't deduced that kind of grief in her, Tracey held more grief and Artemis had said Tracey had only broken up with her boyfriend. Either Iolaus was still alive and they weren't that close or he was dead and Artemis was very good at sublimating her emotions.

He heard Artemis's footsteps coming into the sitting room and turned to look at her, her face was drawn and her eyes rimmed in red but she was composed and he felt that sense of pride at how well she held herself together surge in his chest. It was out of character for him and confused him but John was always telling him to let himself feel those emotions. He stood and watched her walk towards him, towards the kitchen he knew, but watching her walk towards him shoulders back, back straight and face composed, unafraid, made his stomach flutter. It was a sensation he was unfamiliar with and he wondered vaguely if he was catching something.

She passed by him the empty cup in hand into the kitchen and rinsed the cup, she opened the fridge and he heard her make a surprised noise then to his surprise she started to laugh and it made a ghost of a smile cross his face. "Sherlock." Her voice curled around him and that fluttering feeling crept back, he shoved it down ruthlessly and went into the kitchen to see her holding his jar of eyeballs a smile still on her face.

"Why exactly do you need a jar of eyes… and why are they all green?"

"Only 2% of the human race has green eyes. I wanted to see how many similarities there were between a wide cross section of samples." He replied and she looked curious.

"Are you looking for similarities in the rods or just the pigmentation cells of the iris? I assume you've already looked into the genetic component."

He blinked and felt the ghost of a smile became a little more solid. "I haven't had time to conduct the experiments beyond confirming a genetic component. How do you know so much about eyes?"

Artemis put the jar of eyes back in the fridge and closed it. She tapped her glasses with a finger. "I have a condition called Macular Degeneration. The rods in my eyes are slowly dieing and every year I lose a little more vision. At first it was little details, things seemed less crisp, colors seem less bright. Now I'm not allowed to drive without glasses and I'm night blind. I did a lot of research into the condition and learned a lot about eyeballs."

Sherlock wondered for a moment what it might feel like to slowly lose one of his senses, his most important sense he realized since his life revolved around observation. He had taken a few steps closer without realizing it and was staring at her eyes behind the glasses as if he could see the disease stealing her sight. She gave him a bright smile. "Oh don't look s stressed out Sherlock. I'm not blind yet, I won't be for many years."

He startled a little and realized he was only a handful of inches away from Artemis and had her backed up against the fridge. He stepped back. "If you're hungry you may want to eat out, I can't guarantee anything in the fridge is edible."

She chuckled and walked past him to the living room. "Well given that it is 3am I don't think our choices are that great."

He smirked and pulled out a handful of menus that from places that were open 24 hours. "There's a delivery boy who owes me a favor. Place an order, anything you like and I'll see it gets here."

Artemis opened the menu's and perused them for a few minutes before calling one and placing an order. She ordered food for Sherlock as well ignoring his protests and he called the delivery boy, half an hour later they were sitting in the sitting room, Artemis eating a tray of scrambled eggs with shredded veggies, bacon and cheese, Sherlock was picking at a plate of plain scrambled eggs with sliced tomato ignored off to the side. "Do you have flashbacks often?"

Artemis paused and set her fork down carefully before she looked at him her eyes guarded. He was starting to hate the shield she drew around herself when he probed into her past. She ran her fingers over the scar on her arm absently. "Not as often as I used to." She replied.

"You said you got that in a mugging."

She made a wry face. "You know I lied about that."

He nodded and set the plate down before leaning over and catching her wrist in his hand pulling her arm out so he could inspect the scar, he traced the scar with one long forefinger. His keen eyes caught the tiny marks on either side where a needle had gone in to stitch the wound closed but they were larger than a standard surgical needle. "Someone with medical knowledge but no medical equipment stitched this." He murmured.

"I stitched it." She replied and he looked up at her in surprise.

She smiled at the look on his face and he froze realizing that he was caressing her arm. "I was an EMT before my son was born." She replied.

"EMT's don't need to know how to stitch wounds." He said softly.

"I bribed a doctor to teach me. Knowing how to do extra stuff meant I got better contracts." She replied with a shrug and took her arm back.

He nodded. "You won't tell me how you got that will you?"

She shook her head. "No."

"And you can hide from my deductive reasoning, something very few people can do. Why hide it? Why hide behind your armor and your walls? Is someone hunting you?"

She shook her head again. "Not in the traditional sense. I can't tell you Sherlock. I'm sorry but what Tracey and I are stuck in is… beyond us. Beyond you and Scotland Yard."

"Is Mycroft involved?" He felt the bitterness at the possibility of his brothers involvement creeping into his stomach.

Artemis shook her head. "No. No he hasn't got anymore of a clue than you do, hell he doesn't even have as much information about me as you do so you've got that on him." She smiled a little.

He nodded and stood up. "I hate admitting to this but I do not know where to begin looking for them. I don't have enough information. How do I not have enough information?"

He ran his hands through his dark curls and made a frustrated noise, it surprised him to suddenly feel Artemis's hands on his arms and he lowered his hands staring at her, her dark eyes looking up into his and her fingers rubbing gently over his wrists. "You have more information than you might think, you just haven't sounded it out. Talk to me Sherlock. You know more about Moriarty than anyone anywhere. You know his people, his habits, hell you probably know how he takes his tea."

He nodded and took a breath then started talking. "Moriarty has been building up to something, he's taken a significant portion of his network out of circulation, only his drug rings and his human trafficking ring have been left in play. He intends to kidnap someone, someone other than Tracey or John, he took them to distract me… or to send a message. If a distraction he'll keep them and send clues, if a message they'll turn up soon."

Artemis nodded and her faint smile encouraged him to keep going and he moved his hands to cradle hers while he kept going perversely enjoying the feel of her skin against his. "Whomever their target is we can assume they are well defended. There are only a handful of targets that might fit but all of them are known factors in the equation and he could have taken them at any point prior to this." He trailed off and sighed. "I almost had it… I'm still missing vital clues."

Artemis smiled up at him and moved her hands to his face shocking him with how warm they were, she stood on tiptoe and pressed her forehead to his. "You are amazing Sherlock, no one else was going to put together a kidnapping scheme by determining which evil bastards were missing. We'll find more information, more puzzle pieces for you."

He felt his heart hammering against his ribs and knew his eyes were dilated. He'd only felt like this around Irene Adler but less sharply, Irene was a brittle puzzle, a mean spirited game player out for herself. Artemis was a puzzle too but she engaged his curiosity, she was protecting something, he knew she was protecting Tracey but she had the same protective behaviors as John, there was no malice in her secrets and he inhaled sharply realizing that he hadn't breathed for a minute, the sudden breath caught her scent, soap, tea, and a slight hint of sandalwood, her bodywash his mind supplied. He swallowed hard as she leaned back and started to step back, he caught her shoulder and kept her in close. "I…" He started and stopped unsure of what to say, it wasn't a first but he could only remember a handful of times where he'd been at a loss for words.

Artemis tilted her head a little her hair swinging away from her face and she cupped his cheek before leaning up and pressing her lips against his, his heart beat a painful tattoo against his ribs as he tasted her mouth, tea, eggs and just her. He wasn't foolish enough to think it was love and he knew she wasn't either, it was mutual lust, comfort, and even curiosity that had them kissing in the middle of his sitting room at 4am. She started to lower her hands and he stopped her keeping them pressed against his cheeks as their lips parted and he stared at her inches away. "I would like to repeat this but… not right now. I have thought of something and you need to sleep and…"

"You want to be able to focus on all the sensations, all of the data." She smiled and stroked her fingers over his cheekbones making him close his eyes.

"Yes." He said softly and Artemis leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"I understand. Chase your lead, I'm going to try to sleep for a little longer. Do not leave without me ok?"

He let her hands go and she stepped back his hands falling away from her and he nodded his eyes focusing inward as he started following his train of thought. Artemis went into the bedroom and sat on the bed pressing her fingers to her lips and shivering. 'I'm sorry Iolaus, I'm scared, and alone and I know I'm never going to see you again. My heart is yours but I need to be held...' She thought as she covered her face with her hands and scrubbed her face trying to scrub the lingering guilt away.


	12. Chapter 12

**You know it sometimes worries me how good at writing evil crazy people I am. I write evil crazy very well but it's a lot harder for me to write good crazy. Should I be worried? As always reviews get good karma and kitten kisses!**

Tracey didn't recall falling asleep but when she woke she was no longer in the cell, she was also tied to a chair her jacket gone leaving her sitting in her ruined pants and her bra. Tracey's head was pounding hard now and she shook her head to brush her hair out of her face. Hazel eyes rolled a little as she tried to get her focus back, but that took a little more effort that she thought she had in her. At this very moment she was a little uncomfortable with this situation, but she knew it wouldn't get any better from here. She was in another room, much like the one she and John were locked up in. This one was lit up a little better but there wasn't anyone else in the room. Tracey tried to even out her breathing and put on a facade of calm, though on the inside she felt like she was going to be sick. All she could do now is wait and hope that she would be alright... her thoughts turned to Legolas and if things started to go sour, for there was a chance that they could, she would use Legolas as something to focus on through anything that could happen next.

"You're remarkably calm." Moriarty said from the shadows. "Especially after how I returned John to you. He's a remarkable man considering he's Sherlock's pet. Very strong, very much the military man. It's so sweet how loyal he is. Are you that loyal?"

Tracey's eyes slowly moved around the room, searching for the person the voice belonged to and then fell on the place she thought Moriarty was hiding. A small smirk touched her lips, though there was nothing funny about her situation at all. She took a calming breath before answering his question.

"I'm loyal to a number of things." She answered, twisting her wrists a little to loosen the bonds that tied her to the chair, just to get a little more feeling in them again. "You're going to have to be a little more specific with your questions if we're to get anywhere and become good chums Moriarty."

He stepped in closer and she could see the unsettling smile on his face. "You know I like you. It's been a very long time since anyone, especially a woman, stood up to me like this. It almost makes me regret what has to come next."

There was a growing dread in Tracey's stomach and she took care to hide it as she watched him step closer to her, his hands in his pants pocket. She took a deep breath and let it out with a shrug.

"Almost being the operative word and here I thought I was the biggest pain in the ass ever." Tracey said with a shrug before looking him in the eye. "Guess that honor and title will have to be reserved for you."

He smirked and snagged a rolling tray from the shadows. He whipped the cover off rather dramatically and gave her a condescending smile. "I know, drama queen, everyone says so but I am nothing if not comfortable in my own skin."

Pulling the cloth away had revealed rows of scalpels, several slender curved blades and oddly bottles of antiseptic and a box of alcohol wipes. "What? I am not a complete savage, the best artists use the best brushes and I always did like my toys." He picked up a scalpel and held it up to the light letting the stainless steel blade glitter like some sort of obscene jewel.

"If I was to make a suggestion, would you take offense?" Tracey asked, a slight shake of her head as her heart started to beat a little more quickly. "Artists use the best brushes, so if you were to go into a torture session then I would've used ceramic blades, they're far more beautiful and they don't tarnish… I bake and cook a lot so I would know."

Moriarty looked fondly down at his tools. "But steel hurts more." He remarked dreamily.

This wasn't going to end well and if there was any justice in the world, she would pass out from the pain. She remembered something really important, she was living for two people now, not just for herself. She was Bonded to Legolas and in being so, if she were to die then the possibility of him dying too was real too. This gave her strength and stiffened her resolve to not be broken by this psychotic man.

"I come from a military family... You won't break me."

"Ooh I love defiance. It makes the screaming sweeter." He ran the scalpel down her arm and she could swear she could hear the skin parting under the wickedly sharp knife. "Lets chat to pass the time shall we? I know you're not a traveling saleswoman, you and your girlfriend don't exist on any data base, your passport is a forgery, granted a very good one but still fake and your social security number is one that's never been issued to anyone past or present. So Who are you really?"

Tracey bit back a scream that threatened to rip from her throat and instead gritted her teeth together, her fingers clenching against the handles of the chair she was bound to. When her muscles tightened, the blood began to rise to the surface and trickle down her forearm. She instantly relaxed because the more she worked the muscles the more she would bleed and the more the next cuts would hurt.

"Why do you have to... know everything… about everything!" Tracey shot back, gasping for breath as she glared at Moriarty. "And for your information the girl living with me in the flat is my business partner, not my girlfriend, get it right or shut the hell up."

He ran another line diagonally across her arm about two inches long and inspected his work. "Knowledge is power and I am very powerful. Besides everyone needs a hobby." He made another cut before setting the scalpel down and using an antiseptic wipe to clean away the blood. "Mustn't risk infection." He hummed softly and gave her a smile with eyes as empty as a dolls eyes. "So not your girlfriend, pity, she'd react so much more entertainingly if she were. Love… it makes us weak…"

"You're wrong…Love gives you something to live for… and it makes you want to live." Tracey said, her breath coming out in a shutter. "Take me for example… I'm in love right now, and it's going to give me the strength to kick your ass when I get the chance."

Perspiration started to form on her forehead and she couldn't do anything to wipe it off. She was in so much pain that she wanted to cry out and scream, but she knew it would give him much pleasure and that was something she refused to give him. He would pay and she'd see it happen.

He smirked and ran a fresh scalpel down her arm in three quick lines creating intersections. She realized he was making another map on her right arm. "So you're in love, but not with that pretty girl living with you. She's older than you right? She doesn't look it, such lovely skin, both of you have such lovely skin." The tone of his voice was as meaningless and empty as any hair dresser and just about as personal. "You're from the States right? What's your favorite state?"

Tracey felt her arm twitch and she was heaving air heavily. Her head lolled to one side, away from Moriarty and his collection of sharp implements of torture and hissed angrily when he used the alcohol on her torn skin. She was feeling the burn and slowly the skin became numb and she hoped that she would pass out soon.

"You have got to be kidding me." She growled in annoyance. "Yeah I'm in love with the thought of making you pay for this little get together… Thanks for the compliment, I'll share our secret with you…. You sit bound in a chair while someone cuts you up, but mostly you don't go outside unless you have to."

He dug the scalpel in a little deeper and made the next dozen cuts in silence. The tension is his shoulders let her know she'd pissed him off then he slowly relaxed and set the scalpel aside and inspected the marks. "Beautiful…" He picked up a damp cloth and cleaned his fingers before leaning down and holding up her shirt with the map done in John's blood. "So considerate of you." He mocked and with a quick jerk he tore the sleeve free and used a scalpel to slice it open along the seam.

He used an antiseptic wipe which made the cuts well with fresh blood and he ruthlessly pressed the fabric to her arm imprinting the map onto the fabric. She felt herself black out a little at the pain but came around when he waved something disgusting smelling under her nose. "Ah ah. Not yet ducky. We've got the other arm still to do."

Coughing fitfully, Tracey's head shot back up from her chest as her eyes rolled and refocused on Moriarty's face. Her hair was matted with sweat and she felt her stomach starting to lurch from the amount of gas that had been used on her and now the nasty and harsh smelling salts was the last straw. Tracey's stomach suddenly lurched again and she wretched to the left where Moriarty was pulling his torture cart around to. On the inside she was hoping that she at least got some bile on his shoes.

"Happy to be of service." She said sarcastically, collecting saliva and any remaining stomach acid and spitting it out at him. "Bastard."

The vomit splattered all over the floor beside her splattering the legs of the cart. She was pleased to note that some of the vomit had splattered onto his impeccable black shoes and spots of the vile stuff had even landed on the cuffs of his pants. He gave an aggravated sigh and casually backhanded her across the face hard enough to have her seeing stars. He slapped her again on the other side of her face and her ears rang. She could feel blood dripping down her chin from her split lip and she thought her nose might be bleeding too. He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head back bringing a scalpel up not even an inch from her eye. "I wonder if your boyfriend would think you're still pretty with one eye gone to a bloody ruin. What do you think sweetheart?"

Light glittered off the blade but he was utterly calm, his hand steady as it hovered near her eye with the scalpel.

"I think it wouldn't matter." Tracey coughed, her eyes rolling back into her head and her lips peeling back to a bloody smirk. "It's not like I'm going to be able to see him again anyway… Plus it's your fault for not asking if I had a sensitive stomach or not. That gas and the god awful salts aren't helping at all either, I'd suggest a different tactic."

She slowly blinked, her eyelashes brushing over the blade of the scalpel in his hand. Her breathing was excited and uneven in her frightened state, but she still refused to let him win.

'All the pain in the world and he still won't break me Legolas… I think you'd be proud of me.' She thought to herself, the blood from her busted lip trickled down and dripped onto her chest. 'And here I thought that chicks were sensitive about their clothes, this guy is such a pansy.'

He pulled his hand back slowly and carved a brutally slow line down her unmarked arm. "You surprise me, I figured you for the kind of naive optimist that might think they can survive this ordeal."

Tracey coughed several times, her jaw clenching and opening silently as short gasps soon followed afterwards. She was in great discomfort and it was far worse than any cramps she had felt in her life. The veins in her throat pulsed and rose to the surface as she struggled against her bonds, but they wouldn't give. Time seemed to slow through the whole process and she made noises in her throat as screams wanted to escape from her, but she forced them down again.

"I have a question for you now." Tracey huffed, grimacing against every scalpel strokes of Moriarty's blades. "What time is it?"

He wiped his hands on a rag and dipped his fingers into a pocket to retrieve his phone. "It is half past 9pm. Why? Do you have a pressing engagement?" He seemed to think that was funny and chortled in a half mad sort of way as he tucked the phone back in his pocket and studied his work critically.

Taking many moments to steady her breathing, Tracey looked up at Moriarty through her matted hair and smirked tiredly at him. She shook her head from side to side slowly and coughed again.

"Oh no… no prior engagements, merely curiosity…" She replied, eyes starting to flutter now as the darkness slipped into her field of vision and her breathing slowed considerably. "Unfortunately you have my full attention at the moment… but it will be important later when our roles are reversed. It could also be the number of years you'll spend in Scotland yard when they catch you…"

The smirk remained on her lips as her head fell to her chest and her breathing evening out to show she had slipped into unconsciousness. The pain had been too much and the torture had taken it's toll.

She woke up back in the cell with John hovering over her on the cot. He was muttering swear words under his breath with increasing creativity and she almost smiled recognizing some of the creative combinations Artemis used when she was really angry.

Coughing quietly until they grew in severity, Tracey's eyes rolled around in her head for a while and her head shifted from side to side on the cot. She looked around the room, but didn't focus on any one thing at a time. Squinting a little to clear her vision, Tracey could barely feel her arms now, they were numb and she was pretty sure that she had lost a good portion of blood and that's why she was still conscious but out of it. She heard John's voice, but couldn't locate where he was and it scared her a little.

"So how bad is it doc?" Tracey asked, blinking tiredly and smirking a little as the dim lights became a blessing instead of a curse, like it had been before. "Will I live to play the piano again?"

Her voice held some amusement, but the pain she felt was far from anything she should have been laughing at.

He moved into her field of vision and she could make out the worry on his features. He lifted her head up a little and helped her drink two cups of water before laying her back down. "Jokes, you've been unconscious for at least 4 hours and you're making jokes."

"What can I say… I'm a stubborn military brat." She replied, a small smirk touching the corner of her mouth. "Another four hours? …That means I've arrived here about 1pm, my session with Moriarty lasted until about 9pm, and I've been out cold for 4 hours you say… so I've been imprisoned for twelve hours now and you approximately the same time, if not a little longer."

She sighed and carefully picked up her arms, inspecting their bandages and realizing they were the thin sheets from the cot she was laying on. Her mouth hurt like she had been hit by a train and her lip was swollen, but no longer bleeding. Tracey gingerly touched her lips and flinched in pain before draping her arms over her stomach.

"How long do you think it will be until Sherlock and Artemis find us?" She asked tiredly. "Moriarty carved another map into my skin too… I just haven't figured out what they're for yet, but I will."

John shook his head and sighed. "You need to rest. You lost a lot of blood and you were going into shock when they brought you back. I'm sure Sherlock will suss out our location soon and come for us. Not sure how Artemis will factor into it though…"

"Oh you don't know Arty like I do John… she won't let Sherlock leave without her, she'll be here when we get rescued." Tracey replied, blinking slowly as sleep was starting to take her again. "Please I don't want to fall asleep again John. I don't want to see his face or wake and be alone here in this room...I don't want to John…please."

John took her hand in one of his and rubbed his thumb over the uninjured skin. "Shhh. Tell me a story, tell me something you love yeah? Talking can help keep you awake, for a while, but you really do have to sleep and one way or another your body will have its way."

Tracey squeezed his hand as much as she could without causing herself too much pain and her eyes widened a little more as she drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. She looked at him, slightly more awake now and relaxed a little more.

"I will sleep when I am dead for there is no rest for the wicked… and I my case the stubborn." She answered, the smirk that touched her lips, spreading to the rest of her lips. "I loved to travel with my family when we were in the military, but then my parents retired and my younger two half brothers took up the call and joined. My older brother and I didn't go into the military… I didn't think I would travel any more after I moved to Tennessee, but then Artemis and I started a business together and that took us farther than we thought we could. It went farther than that still… we saw more than just our world…"

Tracey turned away and coughed before facing him again.

"We found ourselves traveling to other worlds and experienced more wonderful things than anyone could imagine."

He smiled a little and patted her hand gently. "You know Sherlock makes me feel the same way some days. The days where he doesn't make me feel like an utter idiot or when I'm not angry with him for being an utter prat. Artemis doesn't seem the adventuring type. She looks like a soccer mom."

"Don't let that fool you John, never judge a book by it's cover." Tracey answered shaking her head at him. "It will be the last thing you will do… she is a force to be reckoned with and I can see you don't believe me or you don't understand what I'm saying, but it wouldn't matter if you did or not."

She shook her head and breathed heavily. John checked her temperature with the back of his hand and gave a wry twist of his lips. "Tracey my dear, I have spent the last few years running around God's Earth with a madman who should probably have been locked up for his own safety because I am an adrenaline junkie. I very rarely understand what is being said or what is going on until the end of it all."

Trying her hardest not to laugh and put herself through any more pain that she had to, Tracey's mirth died down and she settled again. She blinked at John, her facial features softening a lot and she squeezed his hand a little.

"We won't be here long and then you and Sherlock won't need to worry about us anymore. One day we'll be here and then the next we'll be gone, poof, like we were never physically there, but the memories will be the only thing that remains."

He gave her a concerned look. "Tracey, if you just go poof Sherlock and I will worry about you quite a lot. For very different reasons I imagine but we will worry."

She tried to think of something to say back but her brain seemed to have turned to oatmeal and her tongue felt like it was made of concrete, darkness was creeping across her field of vision and no matter how hard she tried she couldn't stay awake. The last thing she heard was John murmuring comforting words and against all odds her dreams were pleasant and filled with long spring days spent with Legolas in amongst the trees of Mirkwood.


	13. Chapter 13

Artemis woke up feeling like she'd slept on rocks all night, not an unusual occurrence recently but odd given she'd fallen asleep in a bed. She got up and probed the bed but it was a normal mattress so she had to conclude that it was stress. She stretched and did a few Yoga poses to loosen her muscles before dressing and walking out into the sitting room. Sherlock was lying on the couch with his hands steepled under his chin his eyes staring unfocused up at the ceiling. She shook her head a little and went into the kitchen to make tea grimacing at the time on the clock. 1pm, she'd slept away the morning when she should have been trying to find Tracey. Guilt twisted her stomach and she sighed running a hand through her hair; a quick trip to the bathroom showed bed head and dark smudges under her eyes and she made a face at the reflection. "No, just no." She muttered and ran down to her flat and started applying some simple makeup so she didn't look like death warmed over all day.

Some dry shampoo took care of the bed head and she was presentable and headed back upstairs when someone cleared their throat behind her which made her squeak and react; 'Alright, overreact.' she admitted to herself as she grabbed the person attached to the voice and pin them with a joint lock to the wall.

The postman whimpered and dropped the parcels he had been holding on the floor. "I just wanted a signature." He wheezed.

She heard Sherlock clattering down the stairs and relaxed the hold just enough to not be quite so painful. Sherlock bounded into her flat and stopped catching sight of them. "The postman! Excellent. You can let him go my dear, I think he's quite sufficiently terrorized."

Artemis gave a wry twist of her mouth and let the postman loose, Sherlock was blocking the door after all. Sherlock leaned in. "Those parcels you delivered yesterday had no postmark. Who gave them to you?"

The postman cringed and looked like he wanted to cry. "Look you nutters I just wanted to deliver mail, that's all I ever wanted. I dunno how I keep getting involved in these kinds of strange doings. First the spiders then some freaky pale bloke threatening to tell me wife about me drinking an' gambling and now this broad wrenching my arms out of me sockets! I quit, That's it I quit, I'm going to hospital for nerves are you happy?!"

Artemis crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. "No, far from it. Where did 'the pale bloke' corner you?"

"Off Canal Street, down by the pub I take me breaks at." The poor postman looked like he was going to have a stroke, his face was sweating profusely.

Sherlock bent down and picked up the parcels he'd dropped and inspected them, another pair of bubble mailers with no postmarks. "And this time?"

"Same place. Said I'd better not quit drinking any time soon." The postman looked miserable.

Sherlock handed Artemis his phone distractedly. "Call Griffen."

"Who?" Artemis asked puzzled.

"Lestrade." He replied turning the packages over.

"His name is Greg; Sherlock…" Artemis replied looking through his contacts and hitting the call button.

"Irrelevant."

Artemis sighed and waited for Lestrade to pick up. "Sherlock… you never call… are your fingers broken? Did Artemis break you?"

"This is Artemis, I wouldn't break his fingers. Too useful, his legs maybe but not his fingers. We have a postman who has been accepting deliveries from Moriarty. Sherlock wants you down here."

"I see. Be there in a jiff. Is the postman in...one piece?" Lestrade asked sounding a little nervous.

"I didn't break him and Sherlock is too distracted to do it."

"Oh thank goodness. We'll be there in a few, don't let Sherlock open anything." Lestrade sounded relieved and Artemis smiled slightly before hearing a slicing noise and turning to see Sherlock using her fabric scissors to cut the packaging.

"Yeah about that…" She said with a sigh.

"Damn. Alright, keep an eye on him."

"He used my fabric shears to cut paper, he might just lose an eye." Artemis threatened good naturedly.

"My gran used to hit me for that offense." Lestrade reminisced and hung up.


	14. Chapter 14

**Just a heads up everyone, these next two chapters get a bit gorey so be advised. Again I really have to wonder about my mental state that I can write the crazy evil stuff easily but the crazy good stuff is harder. And poor Artemis is going to have a day that is 'A bit not Good.' Reviews get good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

Artemis tucked the phone into her back pocket and took the postman by the arm guiding him to an armchair and pushing him down. "If you know what's good for you, you will sit right there until the nice Detective Inspector comes for you or I'll sick Sherlock on you."

The postman paled a little and shrank back into the chair, Artemis wedged the door closed and walked over to Sherlock keeping the postman in her peripheral vision. "So what did the madman send this time?" She asked quietly.

He spread fabric rectangles across the table and Artemis took in a sharp breath. "That's Tracey's shirt." She said quietly and reached out her hand hovering near the edge as her eyes tried to take in what was on the shirt.

"Quite. I told you he'd send a message. He's sent us a map. The two sleeves were addressed to me, the back on the shirt was sent to you. The maps lead in very different directions." Sherlock turned the sleeves so they overlapped a little and the lines meshed into one cohesive map.

"Sherlock that's dried blood." She said softly, she was barely keeping her voice under control, speaking softly was all she could manage.

"Yes and it's not been drawn, this was soaked up. Cuts were made and the fabric laid over them, sort of a reverse block printing." He sounded intrigued and Artemis's fists clenched with the effort not to punch him in the gut.

She took a few deep breaths and felt calm coat her like a very thin sheet of plastic, just barely containing her anger and her gut wrenching terror. She took Sherlock's face between her hands and lifted his face up making him look her in the eye. "Sherlock," Her voice was a deadly calm, like still water that hit a dangerous undertow. "That is our friends blood. That is Johns blood, and Traceys blood and if it was not drawn that means he is cutting up our friends."

He could see the undertow in her eyes and realized with a start that she was wearing makeup to hide the marks of fear and fatigue. She kept speaking in that calm voice drawing him back from the intellectual fascination. "He is cutting them up Sherlock and I need you to not be so… interested... in how he's done it… I need you to be interested in where he did it okay? Please, I need you to help me find them." Her voice cracked a little on the word please but she kept herself together.

He nodded and she let him go. He looked back at the fabric for once shoving away the tiny insignificant minutiae and focused on the where. "Stains on the collar and cuffs, I'd need to test to see what the composition is. The envelopes smell musty, same as the first set, somewhere damp. Secluded. Close to the river I imagine." He ran a finger over the stains on the cuffs and rubbed his fingers together. "Greasy. Probably industrial lubricant."

He leaned back a little and examined the maps, they had no markers or street names but he was easily able to determine the locations. "The torso map is a Industrial Dock on the Thames." He rattled off the likely address and turned his attention to the sleeves. "Automotive mechanic likely still on the Thames but in the opposite direction."

The door scraped open and Lestrade strode in with Donovan and Anderson both of whom were uncharacteristically silent in the face of Artemis's formal complaint against them. Lestrade walked over to the Postman and started his line of questions writing everything down virtually ignored by Sherlock and Artemis but for very different reasons. Once he had finished he sent the postmen up to the cars with Donovan and Anderson and stood by Sherlock. "What have you learned so far?"

Sherlock rattled off his findings ending with the addresses and declared with his usual air of superiority; "I will take the Automotive shop, you can have the Industrial Dock."

Lestrade shook his head. "No bloody way," He glanced at Artemis. "Sorry…" He started to apologize and Artemis gave him a small smile.

"Lestrade I swear like a very well educated sailor. You can't say anything that will offend me."

He started to protest then stopped and decided to just worry about talking Sherlock out of this latest bit of lunacy. "Neither of you is coming with the police on this. You're too close to this and the last thing we need is to give Moriarty more hostages."

"Lestrade has that ever worked with Sherlock?" Artemis asked folding her arms over her chest and cocking a hip.

Lestrade had been married long enough and understood women well enough to know that posture as a universal gesture for 'Try and stop me, see what I do to you.'

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "No but I have these insane moments of hopefulness. Please, for my ulcers sake, stay here, let the professionals deal with it."

Sherlock snorted from where he was still examining the maps. He'd used her scissors to cut small patches from the cuffs of the sleeves and was folding them into a piece of paper. "I need to take these to St Barts and do a chemical analysis. I can narrow down the location the maps were created at in the lab there."

Lestrade gave a silent prayer of thanks. "Right, I'll get one of the cars to drive you two there."

Artemis shook her head. "No chance. Drop him off, let him do his thing, I'm going with one of your teams to at least one if not both of the locations."

Lestrade started to object but Sherlock gave him a quelling look. "She does not simply See Lestrade, she Observes. If I cannot be there she is better than nothing and a damned sight better than Donovan or Anderson."

"I'll stay back until the area is cleared, I won't leap headlong into disaster. I can record the scene for Sherlock too." Artemis said as a peace offering.

"Have you got a phone yet?" Lestrade asked.

"She can take my spare." Sherlock said fishing in a pocket for a phone with an alarming scorch mark on the back of the case. "Oh don't look so worried, it was only a minor explosives test to verify the veracity of the Life Proof Cases claims. They are a thoroughly excellent company."

Artemis took the phone and unlocked the screen and pulled up the camera. "It works."

Lestrade sighed, he swore he could feel more of his hair going gray. "Fine, fine, but you have an officer escort from the second we step out of the car until you walk back through the front door. Am I understood?"

"Absolutely." Artemis replied and raced up the stairs for her satchel and shoes.

When she came back down she was wearing her black polar fleece jacket and had a pair of sturdy boots with a chunky low heel. Sherlock looked askance at the boots. "You can't run in those."

Artemis smirked. "I can outrun you in these, I know because before I buy boots I take a test run in them, makes the sales people crazy but I like heels. Be glad I opted for these instead of the ones with the four inch heel, I can run in those two but they're a bit unsteady in gravel. Besides, I can hide this in the boot." She lifted the hem of her pants and showed the clip if a short thin knife in the tall boot.

Lestrade decided not to remark on how illegal that was and instead motioned for them to go up the stairs to the waiting cars. Artemis had her satchel slung with the strap across her chest. "What do you keep in that thing?" He asked as they exited to the street.

"Useful odds and ends." Artemis replied.

Lestrade gave a pair of officer's instructions to take Sherlock to St Barts and to stay with him while he did his experiments. When Sherlock had climbed into the car and the car had pulled out into traffic Lestrade opened the door to his car and let Artemis in. "What kind of odds and ends?" He asked as she buckled in.

"A medical kit with surgical supplies, mylar blanket, matches, lighter, dry socks, a poncho…" She peered into the bag. "Some emergency food…" She looked up at him and grinned. "I like to think I was a Boy Scout in a past life."

"Scratch Boy Scout, were you an Army Ranger?" He asked a little incredulously as he made his way through traffic.

"Nope, I was an EMT for a while and I did a lot of hiking and camping before I started the business with Tracey." Artemis replied and pulled the cellphone out and started poking through the apps.

"Well that explains your willingness to walk into danger; EMTs have to be ready and willing to walk into potentially dangerous situations though I'm still a bit confused about your tendency to physically assault people with Judo." He commented.

"Karate." She corrected. "I know Karate, Tae Kwon Do, Wing Chun and a very little bit of Judo." She was checking the internet for information about the Industrial Dock they were headed to and was a little distracted.

"Four martial arts… You must have been hell in the schoolyard." He grinned a little imagining about a much tinier Artemis in a school uniform and pigtails throwing bullies around like matchsticks.

"I was homeschooled, I learned in my teens because I wanted to travel and a woman traveling alone is a target, I never wanted to be a victim." She set the phone down in her lap and watched the road.

"I see." He turned towards the river docks and slowed down looking for the correct entrance.

They finally located it and he made her wait with him in the car while the officers cleared the sprawling ground level. When she got out she had the phone at the ready and was recording everything as they walked out of the watery sunlight into the artificial light of the massive building. She scanned the room with the camera then started looking around. An officer called for Lestrade and they hurried over to see what the fuss was about. A man lay on his side curled around something in a near fetal position. He was dressed like a civilian, ripped jeans, a dark t-shirt and denim jacket, scuffed trainers but his brown hair was too carefully cut to be just some average Joe. Even dead it was carefully styled in a sort of everyday businessmans cut and Artemis crouched and pointed turning the camera to face what she was pointing at. "Look, he's wearing an earpiece."

She focused the camera in on the clear plastic coil and earbud that dangled under the collar of the jacket where it had fallen out of his ear. She panned the camera up and down the body then stood back a little so Lestrade could look for ID, there was none and a quick search of the body revealed no other identifying marks or clues. He was average Artemis realized, everything about him looked so average except his haircut and even that could have been average if the poor guy wasn't dead making it look out of place. She said as much to Lestrade who made a note of it and walked a few paces away to make a call to the Crime Scene techs. Artemis moved around the body and crouched again trying to see what the guy had been huddled around, She swallowed hard realizing he was curled around his own intestines which lay in a pile under him. "They gutted him." She said softly and Lestrade came over.

"What?" He asked crouching beside her and offering a pair of gloves.

"Are those Latex?" She asked.

"Nitrile." He replied and she took them.

"I'm allergic to Latex." She said to his unasked question and picked the camera up. ""He was gutted, it looks like he tried to keep his intestines in but shock kicked in and he died." She motioned with one hand to the pile of intestines.

"Are you sure you weren't Army?" He asked.

She sighed and gave him a stern look. "Fine, fine. Trust Sherlock to recruit someone with a mysterious background." He pulled out his notebook again and made a few notes. "As soon as the Tech gets heres we'll go to the next address. We'll have the body sent to St Barts and Sherlock can have a look at him."

Artemis stood and got video of the area immediately surrounding the body. Anderson, having already followed them to the scene with Donovan had already started processing the scene but when the tech team got there he let them take over and packed his kit back into the car.


	15. Chapter 15

**Artemiss day is a bit not good and she and Lestrade learn a little more about Moriarty's dastardly plan. Reviews get Good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

Lestrade and Artemis got into Lestrade's car and they drove in silence to the next address. This time they had to clear the building in sections, the shop had obviously been in use until very recently and car frames sat in different bays, there were engines sitting on rolling frames and tools everywhere. They thought they might have either come to the wrong address or there was no crime committed until Artemis noticed that one of the cars was on a hydraulic lift. "Did anyone check the car on the lift?" She asked pointing the camera up at it.

No one had and Lestrade berated everyone as Donovan found the lift controls and started lowering it. Once it came to rest Artemis looked into the car and had to turn quickly to keep from vomiting on the body. Lestrade took the camera while Artemis threw up feeling like he wanted to join her. Mutilated didn't cover the damage the victim had taken. Multiple deep lacerations to his chest, face, throat and abdomen were deep enough to show bone and in the abdomen the organs showed. Strangely the intestine and bowel were unpunctured or it would have smelled like an outhouse, The eyes were missing, either gouged out or just slashed to ruin along with the rest of the man's face, he had no lips, and his tongue was missing, so were his ears.

Artemis got herself under control spitting bile out of her mouth and standing up straight. She pulled the gloves back on and held a hand out for the camera. Lestrade was impressed as hell. Most of his officers probably couldn't have faced that mess again, he noticed that her hands were shaking and shook his head. "You'll make the video shake." He said quietly. "Take a minute. I'll film for now."

He pointed the camera at the victim and did the slow pan he'd seen Artemis doing and even reached in and filled the side of the victim he couldn't see from the window, he felt rather proud of himself for thinking to do that, maybe Sherlock was rubbing off on him, now wasn't that a scary thought?

Artemis leaned in and he was glad to see her hands weren't shaking anymore, though she was still very pale which made the subtle makeup she was wearing standout, he thought that was a little odd, she didn't strike him as the type to wear makeup, too practical. 'Maybe she fancies Sherlock… good thing she's made of sterner stuff than poor Molly.' He thought thinking back to the last time Molly had worn makeup around Sherlock.

Artemis took the camera back. "Does he have an earpiece too?" She asked.

"I was just going to check, I need to look for ID anyway." Lestrade said and pulled on his own gloves before looking for anything to ID the poor bastard.

He found the earpiece but no ID. Artemis had pulled back and was scanning the surrounding area with the camera then they both stepped back and let Anderson start processing the scene. Artemis turned off the camera and peeled off her gloves concentrating on the small actions to keep from having hysterics. Lestrade tilted his head towards the exit and she followed him gladly into the fresh air. She took several cleansing breaths and ran her hands through her hair. "Why the overkill do you think?" She asked looking up at Lestrade.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes tapping one out into his hand and after a moment's hesitation offered her one. She surprised him by taking it and lighting it with a gesture that spoke of old habit. They both inhaled the smoke in a sense of companionship borne of tarnishing ones lungs together before he spoke. "It was overkill, in a big way which doesn't make much sense. Why mutilate this one but only gut the other?"

Artemis held her cigarette between her pointer and middle finger her arms folded. She brought the cigarette up and drew in some smoke thinking about what she'd seen at both scenes. "Two different killers? One really calm and the other a maniac?"

"That fits. But why kill them at all?" Lestrade asked and was surprised to realize he was discussing an ongoing murder investigation with a complete civilian.

He took a drag off the cigarette and took that moment to look at Artemis, really look at her. She was staring off into space and still pale but she was recovering from the shock, her best friend was missing but she was remarkably collected about it. She trusted Sherlock to find Tracey and John, she trusted Lestrade to keep her safe but she was also prepared to protect herself. She had come to reasonable conclusions given what little information they had and she didn't make him feel like an utter prat the way Sherlock or even other female Detective Inspectors did sometimes. He wondered if she might be interested in sticking around and joining Scotland Yard. For the time being he decided to keep making use of the resource she offered and his superiors be damned. Artemis spoke suddenly jolting him out of his thoughts. "They were in the way… or they knew something important and wouldn't spill the beans." She flicked ash off the end of the cigarette and looked at him. "What if they were bodyguards?"

He gave her a quizzical look and Artemis took a drag on the cigarette before she explained. "Sherlock thinks there might be some kind of high profile kidnap scheme in the works based on which of Moriarty's henchmen are absent from the playing field. He thinks it has to be someone really important but someone trying to stay low profile because he doesn't think any of the current High Importance Targets are the ones in danger. So what if these two were bodyguards?"

He finished his cigarette and crushed the butt, Artemis followed suit and he led her towards the car. "Nice of Sherlock to share his theory with me." He muttered.

"That's all it was until now." Artemis replied belting in. "He didn't even have any concrete proof that that's what it was, hell it still might not be, I could be misreading the evidence, this isn't exactly my forte."

He gave her a slight smile as they drove. "Oh I don't know, you make a sound argument based on the evidence. Ever thought of being a cop?"

Artemis smiled a little. "I don't take orders well and I hate politics." She replied.

"That's a shame. You'd be a good one."


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey everyone, I'm sorry for how wonky some of the chapters are. I didn't realize how long my chapters were getting and I'm having to break them up a little. Please bear with me and as always reviews are rew... oh hell you guys know already! For the Kittens**

They found Sherlock impatiently waiting on the mass spectrometer to finish, he was assuaging his frustration and boredom by deducing the details of poor Molly's social life when Artemis strode in and popped him upside the back of the head lightly. "Thats enough out of you, you great git."

Molly stared at her eyes wide and mouth slightly open, she'd never seen anyone talk to Sherlock like that aside from John and Lestrade and she'd never seen anyone hit Sherlock without being enraged before, this woman had a faint smile on her lips and was looking at him fondly as he rubbed the back of his head.

She turned and held a hand out to Molly. "Hi, I'm Artemis, you are?"

"Molly Hooper." Molly replied feeling stunned, the woman was American and was behaving so familiarly towards Sherlock.

She felt a faint pang of jealousy, she never could get the hang of being casual and comfortable with Sherlock and this new woman was just so...easy about it. She blinked feeling tears prickle in the corners of her eyes but she pushed it away. Artemis gave her a sympathetic smile. "You have to tell him he's being a jerk or he'll never quit you know." She said and turned to look at Sherlock.

Sherlock shrugged and turned to glare at the mass spectrometer. Lestrade cleared his throat. "Sherlock, we've got the video… The second scene was bad…"

Sherlock turned his eyes alight with curiosity. "What did you find?" He asked eagerly.

"Bodies." Artemis replied and pulled up the videos handing him the phone.

He watched them all the way through then backed them up and watched them again before he dropped it on the table and tapped his fingers on the smooth surface. Artemis had found a stool and was talking to Molly who was surprised at how comfortable she was with the American woman. "They're bodyguards." Sherlock finally announced.

"That's the conclusion we came to." Lestrade replied and Artemis stood up and moved over to stand by Sherlock snagging the phone off the table tucking it into her pocket.

"Really? Got there on your own?" Sherlock asked acerbically.

Artemis nudged him a little and he frowned down at her, Lestrade was used to the verbal abuse but felt a little pleased that Artemis was trying to stand up for him. "Actually Artemis thought of it based on your theory from last night and certain clues she noticed on the bodies."

"The earpieces and how average the first one looked."Artemis supplied.

Sherlock gave her a piercing look and she flushed a little. "I read ok? Spies in the movies aren't anything like real spies, real spies are average, they don't stand out but spies don't wear earpieces. Bodyguards and government agents wear those but since we didn't find anything to mark them as agents I figured bodyguards."

He smiled slightly. "You really are more observant than your appearance suggests."

"Hey! Women can be sexy and intelligent, it's not an either or thing you know. Look at Molly." Artemis motioned to Molly and Sherlock gave her a curious look.

"Oh don't look so baffled Sherlock, you don't get to be a Forensic Medical Pathologist by being stupid. She had to take 8 years of some of the most complex and difficult schooling and then she had to choose a specialty. Choosing to be a Medical Examiner with a concentration in forensic pathology is just as hard as being a GP, harder even because a live patient can tell you where they hurt, what their symptoms are. A corpse can't. It's a puzzle and half the time she doesn't have any reference picture to find the edge pieces." Artemis put her hands on her hips and looked up into his startled face. "Add to that she's a woman in a field of medicine largely dominated by men so she's had to work twice as hard to be taken seriously and she still tries to look halfway feminine. Seriously Sherlock you are the single smartest person I've ever met, how can you be this dense?"

Sherlock was at a loss for words, a sensation he was getting heartily sick of but which happened a lot around Artemis. Lestrade started clapping which made him more irritable but his eyes caught the look on Molly's face and he realized he'd been every bit as dense as Artemis accused. He was used to being so much smarter than everyone in any given room that it hadn't occurred to him that affable Molly Hooper, with her obvious infatuation with him and her fumbling inability to express herself around him, had to be incredibly intelligent in her own right. He blinked and mumbled an apology in the vague direction of Molly which made the woman blush bright red. He turned his attention back to the case, a subject which he felt much more equipped to understand and handle, it occurred to him that if he was going to spend much more time around Artemis he was going to have to steel his mind for a lot of shocking revelations. What would she force him to acknowledge next? That Anderson and Donovan were actually good cops. That made him snort derisively, 'Surely not." He thought ruefully.

"These men," He waved the phone a bit vaguely bringing their attention back to the case. "Were killed by the same assailant."

"How do you figure?" Lestrade asked. "One was gutted, nice and clean, the other was mutilated, for God Sake they can't find the poor blighters tongue, or his ears."

"They'll be in his stomach, the killer forced him to swallow them." Sherlock replied offhandedly and Artemis went a little pale, Molly had to flee the room.

"Oh thats sick." Lestrade mumbled. "How do you know it's the same killer?"

"The singular laceration to the first victims abdomen was made with near surgical precision and managed to avoid the bowel. It was not a quick death and likely was done as a means of torture. I imagine he gave up his employer and any other information the killer wanted rather fast. The second victim was made of mentally superior stuff, he forced the killer to get inventive. I believe the second victim was actually the first, time of death will see this to be true I'm sure. This level of torture is excessive and the cuts to the face speak to rage and frustration. The abdominal and chest lacerations were made with care as were the cuts that amputated the ears but after it became clear the victim would rather die than divulge his secrets the killer lost his temper. He forced the victim to swallow his own tongue and ears then killed him. The other was weaker and gave up his secrets after the first laceration, presumably after being promised medical care."

Sherlock pocketed the phone. "Excellent work Lestrade."

Lestrade shook his head. "Artemis did the camera work."

"Well then, the same to you Artemis." He watched her with cool eyes and wondered if she was going to faint, her face was pale, her skin sweaty and she swayed a little. After a moment she shook her head and muttered that she needed some air. She reached into Lestrade's coat pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes and lighter before leaving at a very brisk walk.

Sherlock's eyes widened a little, he hadn't known she smoked. "Must have quit quite some time ago…" He muttered.

"She's entitled to it, what we saw today would have made veteran officers blanche. She impresses the hell out of me." Lestrade commented. "Too bad she's probably going to go back to the States and go into hiding just to avoid thinking about this ever again."

"She won't." Sherlock said. "She's like John."

The Mass Spectrometer beeped and he hit the button to start printing out the results. Lestrade shook his head. "Even John would have a hard time with that, I think if you'd been there you would have too. It's a lot worse in person." Lestrade paused then sighed. "So who's bodyguards?"

Sherlock was reading the Mass Spectrometer report and his brow was furrowed in angry pinched lines, He tossed it down angrily and crossed his arms petulantly. Lestrade didn't bother picking it up, he never understood that science stuff. "Whose Bodyguards did we just find Sherlock?" He prodded.

Sherlock sighed and picked up his phone. With a few swipes he pulled up a picture attached to a news report. "Meet Muhammed al Grenhedal eb Reshid. Crown Prince of some goat infested country in the Middle East." Sherlock set the phone down on the table and Lestrade picked it up. "That young man went missing from his home country a few weeks ago after his father was assassinated, presumably he fled the country in an effort to save his own life. I suppose the British Government offered some form of Asylum and have hidden him away somewhere for his own protection and our eventual benefit. Moriarty has targeted him for Kidnapping, quite possibly to exercise some kind of control over his Country of Origin."

"And just how did you reach that conclusion?" Lestrade asked setting the phone back down on the table.

"The members of Moriarty's little cabal who have dropped off the radar are all specialists in assassination, kidnapping, and blackmail. They all have ties to the Middle East, additionally the bodyguards who were killed are employees of my brother Mycroft who have guarded Middle Eastern interests in the past. Really Lestrade must you question me at every turn?" Sherlock had his fingers steepled under his chin again and was staring off into space while he talked.

Lestrade heard Artemis's heels clicking on the tiled floor and a moment later she strode in and handed him the cigarette pack and lighter. "Thanks."

"No problem." He replied and pocketed them.

"So… do we know who was killed?" She asked taking in Sherlocks distant countenance.

"Yeah, a Saudi Prince under the protection of the British Government." Lestrade replied feeling a little lot.

"Oh… well, that's good then right? I mean the Government has to have the best protections, so all we do now is tell them the guy is being targeted and take a late lunch right?" Artemis felt the tension in her shoulders ease a little.

"Unless Mycroft has decided to use him as bait which is well within the realm of my brothers machinations." Sherlock replied with a faint smirk.

"He wouldn't really…" Lestrade felt a little ill. "Never mind, it's your brother, of course he would."

Artemis rubbed her temples and felt like she needed a long nap. "Ok, Government conspiracies aside we know who the target is. That takes the ball out of our court and the only puzzle we need to solve is where has that lunatic taken John and Tracey?"

"And on that I have hit a dead end. The mass spectrometer just spat out the results which loop right back to 221B Baker Street. Specifically the exhaust hood over our stove. His agents were in our home and he planted the trace evidence on the shirt sleeves." Sherlock stood up abruptly and started to pace.

Artemis felt like screaming, the frustration sat like like a lead weight in her stomach and she desperately wanted to hit something. She clenched her fists and took several deep breaths until she felt a little lightheaded from the excess oxygen. She spoke in a voice squeezed down to a harsh whisper. "I need to go home. I need to go back to the flat, someone please, take me home."

Lestrade motioned for her to walk out ahead of him, as she walked out he glanced over at Sherlock who looked just as frustrated if not as emotional about it as Artemis. "I'll have an officer drive you home. There's going to be an officer posted at the flat until this is over."

He hurried after Artemis and drove her home in silence. She had her arms folded tight against her stomach and her face closed down as she struggled to keep it together. He walked her into the building and glanced up the stairs. "I had an officer check both flats just in case. He'll be here in the foyer if you need him. If you have to go anywhere he'll call it in and you'll have an escort."

Artemis nodded. "Thanks." She murmured and he felt a pang of concern.

"We'll find them." He said suddenly. "Sherlock is the best, he'll figure this out."

Artemis looked up at him her eyes a little bleak. "But what are we going to find?" She asked. "I know better than most that when you break someone, what heals isn't always whole."

He glanced at the scar on her arm and his trained eye and experience showed him a few other signs of prior abuse. He nodded once and quelled the urge to put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find them." Was all he could say.

She nodded and turned to walk down the stairs leaving Lestrade to give instructions to the officer in the Foyer. She leaned against the door inside the flat and pressed her hands to her face shaking though the tears refused to come for some reason. She hung her satchel up, took of her jacket and shoes and looked around the silent flat her mind a buzzing blankness, blood rushed in her ears and she couldn't seem to think. A sudden urge flowed through her and she went into her room, with a quick burst of strength she hoisted the end of the bed up and set the bed standing up on its end leaning against the wall. She put a blanket between the wall and the legs of the bed then went into Traceys room and grabbed all the pillows. She quickly stuffed every pillow she had at hand in between the frame and the mattress. She stripped her shirt off and changed into a tank top then changed into a pair of leggings. She realized with a small smile that she still had Sherlocks spare phone and dug it out of her pants pocket pulling up a music app and turning on a playlist full of loud angry music. She turned it on full volume and set it on the bedside table before she turned her attention to the makeshift punching bag.

She threw herself into the exercise punching, using her elbows and knees, letting the frustration out through her body. After several minutes of that she began Wing Chun strikes but that was too controlled and she growled in frustration switching back to the strikes, kicks and punches. Her body was slick with sweat and she felt the burn in her muscles as she pushed herself trying to pour her anger, her fear and her frustration out through her pores. She was gasping for breath and didn't realize she'd started to cry, the sweat and tears mingled on her face and dripped off her chin as she pounded the makeshift punching back until she felt the anger and pain rising up out of her chest through her throat and she was yelling wordlessly into the noise from the music. She staggered a little as the exertion caught up with her and she threw one last half hearted punch at the makeshift punching bag but she misjudged the angle and one of the pillows had slid down towards the bottom of the bed and she cried out as her wrist twisted and she felt a sharp pain.

She backed away holding her wrist to her chest then yelped again as Sherlock moved into her field of vision reaching for her, she staggered back falling on her butt and he grabbed the phone turning the music down as he knelt beside her. "Did you break it?" He asked his long fingers reaching for her arm.

She laughed and it was high and a little hysterical. "Now wouldn't that just make everything perfect?" She gasped and drew her knees up resting her forehead on her knees trying to blink away tears. "The outside will match the inside." She muttered.

Sherlock nudged her legs trying to draw her arm out so he could inspect the damage, she didn't resist him which worried him a little but he held her arm carefully, the wrist was beginning to swell and he surmised that she must have been punching the bed for quite a while given the state of her fists and elbows. "It's most likely broken." He said softly. "I'm going to get an icepack and then the nice police office upstairs is taking us to the surgery."

He got up and went into the kitchen but all he could find in the freezer was a bag of frozen peas. He wrapped it in a tea towel remembering the time he's sprained his wrist during a case and John had done the same. He went into her room and held the cold bag against her wrist looking around curiously. He saw evidence of some sort of ritual in one corner but with the bed up against the wall it had all been pushed into a corner, he didn't see any idols or symbology anywhere, no books, only a handful of candles. He suppressed the urge to ask her about her religious beliefs and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Come on, we'll get you patched up shall we?"

She stood up and he let go of her letting her walk out on her own. She used her good hand to peel off her socks and slid her feet into a pair of flats and grabbed her satchel. She was remarkably composed considering that in all likelihood she had a broken wrist. She was silent, her face was pale and she looked absolutely miserable.

 **I always feel like Sherlock discounts Molly a little too easily so I decided to address that too! Reviews?**


	17. Chapter 17

**In which Mycroft is an asshole and Sherlock is surprisingly concerned.**

The officer called in the incident to Lestrade and drove them to the hospital in silence. Artemis was staring out the window holding her injured arm in close against her stomach, Sherlock was staring straight ahead but he was watching her too out of the corner of his eye. He had just gotten back to Baker Street and heard the music from Artemis's flat, he'd heard the wordless yells and the sound of impacts and had cautiously entered her flat. He had no desire to be on the receiving end of her martial skill again, he still had lingering bruises from the last time they had sparred. When he hadn't found her in the sitting room he'd followed the noise to her room and watched Artemis punching the bed which she'd stood on end and apparently added extra padding to. She had good technique but she must have been at it for a while and he realized that she had been crying, it wasn't immediately apparent since the tears mingled with the sweat pouring down her face. She was running out of steam though and in her exhaustion she botched her last punch and he thought he heard something crack but with how loud the music had been he couldn't be sure.

The emergency staff at the hospital were efficient and empathetic but he had to grind his teeth at the frankly ridiculous questions they were asking her. She answered in a monotone and they whisked her away, one of the nurses took the police officer aside and he overheard her asking if he was Artemis's spouse and was he being investigated for abuse. He wanted to snap at her but he couldn't be bothered anymore. He was used to being maligned, being called Freak, Fraud, why not add abuser to the list of derogatory titles. He slouched in the chair and heard the Officer assure the nurse that 'No, Sherlock was not her spouse, no he was not abusing her.'

He'd been sitting in the chair contemplating the case for about half an hour when a nurse approached him. "She wants you in there with her. They're about to set the bone." She was giving him an angry look that let him know she hadn't bought the officers reassurance.

He stood languidly and she muttered something under her breath before leading him to the cubicle where Artemis sat on the edge of an exam table. He strode over to stand beside her but wasn't sure what to do, Artemis reached over and took his hand with her free hand. The doctor gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm going to give you a local." He took her arm gently and administered the injection and waited for a minute while he reviewed her X-Ray on the lightbox. Sherlock glanced over and stared, she had multiple healed fractures and breaks all in defensive areas of the arm. He looked back down at her realizing why the nurse thought he was abusing her, the X-Ray coupled with the dark bruises on her wrists from their last fight.

She squeezed his hand and he turned his attention back to her as the doctor took her arm in his hands and started gently applying pressure, she squeezed her eyes closed and clung to his hand while the Doctor worked the bone back into place. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders feeling strangely out of his depth. He watched her face as the doctor carefully straightened the break, she was sitting rigidly in his grasp and her hand was squeezing his hard then she relaxed as the bone settled back into place. She slowly let go of his hand but her fingers shook and he felt the urge to keep holding onto her. The nurse stepped in and started applying a cast while Sherlock watched curiously. The Doctor droned on about taking care of the cast and prescribed an antibiotic and a painkiller. Another hour later the officer was driving them back to the flat with Artemis's wrist encased in a dark red cast, it had been the only thing she'd requested.

"Do… do you want to be alone?" He asked awkwardly when they got to the flat.

She looked over at him her face blank and her eyes dull, he felt a strange jerk in his stomach, he didn't like seeing her like that, he was used to seeing her dark eyes bright, aware, a reflection of her personality and he awkwardly took her hand in his. "Never mind, you're in no shape to be alone."

He nudged her up the stairs as the officer sat down in the chair Mrs Hudson kept in the foyer. When they got inside he went for a glass of water. "The doctor said you had to take a pain pill when you got home."

He brought the water out and saw that Artemis was standing at the window, she'd left her satchel on the table and was just staring out the window. He set the glass down and tried to figure out what he should do. John was the comforter, so was Mrs Hudson, they were both so much more in tune with emotions. He almost felt relieved when the door opened and Mycroft strode in the officer trailing him still trying to protest the intrusion. Sherlock assured the poor man that everything was fine and closed the door behind Mycroft.

"To what do I owe the dubious pleasure?" Sherlock asked acerbically.

"Why did you feel the need to withhold the information that the Crown Prince of Irakesh is Moriarty's target?" Mycroft asked his eyes pinned to Artemis who was ignoring them both in favor of staring out the window.

"I was going to call you this time but something came up." Sherlock replied with a shrug.

"You had a row." Mycroft retorted.

"Hardly, if we had I'd be the one broken not her." Sherlock replied and flopped down on his couch.

Mycroft made a disgruntled noise. "Well be that as it may we've tripled security on the Crown Prince, you may consider your work done."

"It is not done. John and Tracey are still missing, I'm close to finding them, I just need more data." Sherlock reached up and grabbed his skull off the side table running his fingers over the bone.

"You are no longer on this case at all, I have my own considerable resources dealing with it…" He trailed off when Artemis turned and Sherlock was relieved that her eyes were no longer dulled by pain and fear, they blazed and he settled in to enjoy watching her tear strips off his brother. 'A pity I don't have any popcorn.'

"And what have your resources turned up hmm? Have you found Moriarty's absent henchmen?"

"No… but…" Artemis cut him off.

"But you know where Moriarty is hiding out?"

"Well no…" She cut him off again.

"Well then you know how he was planning on taking the Prince and have a plan to capture him instead."

"I...no…" She was ruthless.

"But you know exactly where he is holding Tracey and John."

He stopped trying to defend himself, she all but vibrated with fury and her eyes glittered dangerously. She waited then nodded once. "That's what I thought. You don't know any more than the police, you know less than we do at this point but you want to take your brother, the best Detective bar none, off the case because you don't want him bruising MI6's ego again by solving the case before they can. I mean they're supposed to be the best of the best right but Sherlock keeps showing them up time and time again. Well too fucking bad."

Mycroft opened his mouth and Sherlock had to struggle to keep the smile off his face. Artemis held up her unbroken hand slashing it through the air. "No. Just fucking no. You're not bullying us off the case, not that you could stop him anyway, I don't know why you're even trying at this point unless for some reason you want Moriarty to get away."

Sherlock saw something subtle cross his brothers face and leaned forward. "You do… He's useful to you, an unwitting pawn…" He murmured.

Mycroft sighed. "He is useful from time to time and an unwitting distraction."

Sherlock saw Artemis move and grabbed her around the waist before she got to his brother. Her face was contorted in rage and he had to lift her off the floor as she screamed wordlessly and tried to get loose. Mycroft had backed away shocked at the outburst. "You better leave, she's strong and angry. I think she might just kill you if you're still here when I tire of holding her back."

"You wouldn't let her do such a thing." Mycroft snorted but he did start backing towards the door.

"Keep in mind brother dear, Moriarty has John too and I am very fond of my blogger. I've been a bit lost without him and you've just admitted that you have been using him to distract me and I rather think London in general from other sordid dealings. I'm not best pleased with you either." Sherlock lowered Artemis's feet to the floor but turned her in his arms and kept her wrapped in close against him her hands pinned against his chest while she struggled.

He gave his brother the full weight of his angry icey blue eyes and Mycroft turned and left muttering about patriotism and insanity. Sherlock waited until he heard the downstairs door close before he turned his attention down to Artemis who had stopped struggling. He carefully uncoiled one arm and pressed his hand to her head and stroked her hair gently. "I'm sorry. My brother is a prat." He spoke softly and kept stroking her hair feeling the tension slowly ebb out of her.

He'd seen John do this with a girlfriend once when she'd been upset over something much more trivial and was pleased that he'd stored the information away. He felt her shaking and wondered for a second if he was doing it wrong when he felt hot tears soaking through his shirt, she unfolded her arms from between them and wrapped them around him clinging tightly while she sobbed and he stroked her hair wondering if there was anything else he should be doing, he couldn't make a decent cup of tea to save his life so that was out. Eventually the crying stopped on its own and she stepped back scrubbing at her face with her good hand. "I-I'm sorry." She hiccuped.

He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and after checking to make sure it was clean he pressed it into her hand. "I don't claim to understand emotions, they confuse me at the best of times but I cannot fault you for expressing them right now. I am angry and worried and frustrated but I am not… able to express those emotions... "

She wiped her eyes still hiccuping a little trying to calm down. "I'm doing enough expressing for us both I think…" She tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it.

He hesitantly reached out and took her hand in his. "I won't give up. John means too much to me… and I know Tracey is your John. I won't give up on them, I just need more data…"

Artemis took a few deep breaths and tugged her hand free so she could run her hand through her disheveled hair, she grimaced. "Ugh… I need a shower."

He gave a small smile. "I know John did laundry so there are clean towels… do you want food?"

"Yes… I didn't realize how hungry I am." She looked around and grabbed some of the clean clothes she'd stacked in a chair when she'd unloaded her satchel that morning. 'Jesus was it really only this morning?'

"We'll brainstorm after we eat. I need calories to think." She went into the kitchen and grabbed a trash bag and rummaging in a drawer she found a roll of duct tape.

"Can you help me tape this?" She asked and after a few failed attempts he managed to help her wrap the cast.

When she got out of the shower and dressed she found chinese on the table and Sherlock was playing something discordant on the violin. "Come eat with me Sherlock, please?"

She opened cartons and got plates, she was obscurely grateful that she'd broken her left wrist as she picked up the chopsticks and started eating. Sherlock took miniscule amounts of food nibbling as he wandered through his Mind Palace trying to connect the clues.


	18. Chapter 18

**Aaaand finally! Light dawns over marble head! Things are about to get interesting. Reviews are rewarded with good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

Artemis had cleaned up after the meal and was laying on the couch in a haze of painkillers, her wrist had begun to throb painfully after the meal and she had taken half a pain pill and laid down on the couch trying to think of where Moriarty might have stashed their friends. As the painkiller started easing her out of pain and into comfort her mind seemed to have gone to mush. She was tired and she knew she was hurt and the anxiety of not knowing made everything harder. She watched Sherlock while he sat at the table hands steepled before him, he hadn't moved in hours and she wondered how he could do that, normally if he didn't have a project or lately some kind of life or death emergency, she got antsy.

'I suppose he does have a project in a way. Solving this is his project, he just doesn't need to be physically doing something or creating something to be working on a project.'

She rolled onto her side and let herself float on the painkillers, her eyes drifted closed and when she woke up she was laying in a bed under a light blanket. She blinked hazily the painkiller still in her system but when she shifted she felt an arm around her waist. She looked over her shoulder and found Sherlocks dark curls mingling with her auburn hair as he pressed his face against her shoulder his eyes closed, face passive. She smiled a little and just lay there enjoying the physical closeness with another person, after a while her mind cleared and she started thinking about Moriarty and Sherlock.

She mentally smacked herself then. 'Arty you moron. You know this shit, you KNOW this. You've read everything Conan Doyle wrote, You've watched every episode of Sherlock, even the interviews with the writers and the actors. Just because the Fall never happened doesn't mean Moriarty isn't still the same fucker who emotionally blackmailed a high functioning sociopath into suicide, fake or not."

She didn't have a Mind Palace to go to, hell she barely had a Mind Cupboard but she rifled through it trying to remember something, anything. She finally managed to find the piece she'd been looking for and patted Sherlock's shoulder. "Sherlock… Sherlock I think I know where Moriarty is."

He snapped awake and sat up. "What?" His voice was a little slurred and he ran a hand through his hair blinking.

Artemis got up and hurried out into the sitting room and began digging around in his desk looking for the file. Sherlock shuffled in after her just as she found what she was looking for and turned, a photograph in hand holding it out. "The Great Game. Moriarty likes to play games and you beat him at one of his best but like any self aggrandizing narcissist he thinks he can still win. And not only that he's a professional bad guy, he hoards information, property, anything he thinks either might lead back to him or be useful again in the future." She tapped the photograph, or more specifically the factory in the background.

"And he likes to taunt you specifically. He knew you'd be more focused on the location of the body and would ignore the extraneous details like how was he able to get to that stretch of the Thames with a body and leave no evidence of a boat. The answer, he owns it. Thats his factory, his little stretch of the riverbank."

Sherlock took the photo and stared at it then looked at her. "You're a genius…" He murmured quietly then grabbed her shoulders his eyes alight. "You're a genius! That's what I missed!" He pressed his lips to hers for a heartbeat before he turned and ran into his room. She heard him dressing and pulled on her boots then dragged her fleece jacket on and slung her satchel over her shoulder the strap across her chest. She made sure her pills were inside and was looking around when she noticed a tiny figurine on the mantle. A tiny black bird with blue markings that hadn't been there before. She felt a faint jolt in her stomach and walked over picking it up and turning it over in her fingers. She stuffed it in her bag then leaned over and picked John's gun up off the floor under the chair popping the clip out to check the ammo before slapping it back home.

"You've done that before." Sherlock said from behind her.

She made sure the safety was on and smiled over at him. "Yeah. American and all."

She offered it to him and he took it tucking it into a holster inside his coat pocket. She gave him an appraising look while she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, a little awkwardly due to the cast and he came over taking the brush from her and gently pulled the hair tie out. He deftly combed her hair back and tied it his fingers lingering on her neck for a moment.

She smiled up at him and turned running a finger over the pale purple shirt he was wearing. "This color really works on you. Come on, let's tell the nice officer that we know where we're going."

He grinned suddenly. "The game is on!"

 **I do like that purple shirt he wears tho.**


	19. Chapter 19

Tracey woke feeling feverish and groggy, she didn't know how long she and John had been held captive but no one had come to feed them or give them water so she was hungry and incredibly thirsty on top of feeling generally like death warmed over. John seemed a little better off but he had been a soldier after all. Sweat perspired on her forehead and she shook with cold shivers all over though her body felt like it was on fire all over. There was a very potent smell coming from her arms, but this was the first time she really started to smell it and it made her want to roll over and wretch over the side of the cot she was laying on. Her lips were dry and starting to crack and it hurt to breath. Tracey lazily rolled her head over to where she saw John sitting against the wall with his forehead on top of his arms.

"John... John..." She called in a soft whispered voice. "I don't feel so good... I'm hurting a lot. Is there anything we can do?"

He looked up and scooted over to her his hand coming up to check her temperature. "Shit…" He whispered and leaned in to peer at her. "I'm sorry darling, there isn't anything I can do unless they bring us water…"

Tracey turned away from John so she could cough without getting her germs on him and let out a series of coughs, carefully raising her arm without trying to hurt herself more than necessary. Letting her arm slowly fall back to her stomach with her other one, Tracey blinked and looked at John again, a small smile on her lips.

"It feels like we've been here for about a day and a half or so... what do you think?" She asked, coughing in her throat a little. "I doubt they're coming back with any food or water for us John, I don't think they care anymore."

He smoothed her hair back at a loss for anything else to do. "You're probably right. I've tried everything I can think of to get the door open but without tools I'm afraid we're stuck."

"I wouldn't be much help even if we did get out of here." Tracey replied pitifully, shaking a little. "The vent is too small for me anyway..."

She noticed that the air was getting a little stuffy and the infectious smell from her bandages were starting to itch. It felt like her skin was slowly starting to accumulate a thin layer of pus where Moriarty had severed her flesh and it was driving her crazy. Tracey knew she needed to get to the hospital and soon.

"If we start to see flies, do you think we should use the maggots to keep the cuts clean?" She asked, shuttering a little at the thought of letting the nasty larva crawl over the skin of her arms. "How are your cuts doing?"

"I'm fine, my cuts are already healing." He peeled the makeshift bandage away and showed her the scabbing cuts.

He was about to say something else when they both heard loud yelling and the sound of running feet outside the door and John moved between her and the door bringing his hands up. There was a loud gunshot that made them both jump and then the door was jerked open and John and Tracey had to squint in the sudden brightness but Tracey heard John speak Sherlocks name.

"Sher...Sherlock?" Tracey questioned, lowing her hand from where she had flung it up when she heard the gun shot. "Sherlock!"

Relief overwhelmed her and she grabbed at the pocket on John's pants. Despite Sherlock being a big pain in her ass when they had first met, Tracey was glad to see him now and it showed on her face. She rolled over onto her side and clutched the edge of the cot for support as she brought her legs around and placed them unsteadily on the cemented floor.

"Where's Artemis, Sherlock?" She asked and then coughed again. "Not that I'm not happy to see you too..."

 **Where is Artemis indeed? Pease review?**


	20. Chapter 20

The officer that had been posted outside their door had insisted on calling Lestrade but had driven them to the factory when they both made it clear they would go with or without him. Lestrade would meet them there but Sherlocks usual manic energy had him strung tighter than piano wire and as soon as the car stopped he leaped out and Artemis followed behind him while the officer tried to call them back. They entered through a side door just as Lestrade and his men screeched to a halt in a blaze of flashing lights and sirens. A small knot of men around a table to one side of the empty factory floors scattered like roaches when the kitchen light came on and the officers took off in pursuit.

Sherlock ignored the general chaos and made a beeline for a door on the far end that showed signs of having been opened recently. Artemis was following when she caught sight of someone running up a flight of stairs and veered off to pursue her heels clacking firmly on the stairs as she chased him up. He stopped a flight above her and peered down and she glared up at the pale face of Jim Moriarty who just gave her a smug grin before charging up the stairs. "Oh I'm gonna rip that smirk off that shit eating face." She snarled and put on a burst of speed.

Sherlock shot the padlock off the door and wrenched the door open blinking into the gloom at John who had put himself between the door and the bed crouched in a fighting stance despite his obvious wounds and weakness. John sagged in relief seeing Sherlock. "Christ Sherlock… Is Lestrade here, we need an ambulance."

Sherlock turned and bellowed for Lestrade to call an ambulance and Lestrade came from around a bend wiggling a finger in one ear. "I wasn't that far away Sherlock, there's an ambulance on the way."

He crowded in past Sherlock and John moved out to give him some room, Sherlock felt a little sick to his stomach at the sight of Tracey laying on the cot, pale and sweaty the bandages on her arms slick with blood and infection which he just now realized he could smell.

"Sher...Sherlock?" Tracey questioned, lowing her hand from where she had flung it up when she heard the gun shot. "Sherlock!"

Relief overwhelmed her and she grabbed at the pocket on John's pants. Despite Sherlock being a big pain in her ass when they had first met, Tracey was glad to see him now and it showed on her face. She rolled over onto her side and clutched the edge of the cot for support as she brought her legs around and placed them unsteadily on the cemented floor.

"Where's Artemis, Sherlock?" She asked and then coughed again. "Not that I'm not happy to see you too..."

He gave her a concerned look then turned and looked behind me. "She was right behind me…" He said a thread of concern creeping into his voice.

The paramedics showed up just then and ordered everyone to clear a path and Sherlock stepped back, surprisingly to him John followed him even though John was obviously injured as well. "There's only one ambulance and she's in worse shape." He answered.

"Well she isn't anymore..." She mumbled, head swimming with a sudden onset of dizzy spells.

Her first reaction was to shy away from the outstretched hands of the paramedics, but she knew she was too weak at the moment to resist and that they were there to help. She tried to protest when they started to peel back her bandaged arms except a sudden wave of stench made her gag and cough over her shoulder.

"That's sickening... anyone have antibiotics?"

"We'll pump you full of all sorts of nice pills and fluids when we get to the hospital." The paramedic assured her as they transferred her to the gurney and started rolling her towards the ambulance.

"No! Stop!" Tracey started as the gurney moved and she worked the strap across her chest so she could get up. "If anyone is pumping me full of anything it will be Artemis doing the administering of drugs... I'm sure you're fine paramedics, but no thank you..."

She didn't like how the paramedic had spoken and the last time she got into a car she was kidnapped. Avoiding another case like that is her first order of business even if she was infectious.

John moved to stand beside her taking her hand. "Tracey, Tracey hush… You need to be at the hospital now. You'll be alright, I know these people, they are very good at their job, they won't hurt you I swear it."

"Then on your head be it John..." Tracey said, resting her hand over his and then letting go. "Find Artemis... please."

She looked to the paramedics and then waved her hand a bit as a signal to start up the cart again. Tracey didn't like this at all but she didn't have much of a choice.

"I'd hate to come back and taser you John, I rather like you."

He nodded. "We'll find her. I promise."

He turned to Sherlock and they raced to the stairs, since the main floor of the factory was swarming with police it only made sense for her to have gone up.

 **Poor Tracey, she's a Bit not Good right now too. What's going to happen when Artemis catches up to Moriarty? Will John and Sherlock catch up in time to stop her? Stay tuned! Please Review? Think of the kittens!**


	21. Chapter 21

Artemis kept Moriarty in sight the whole way up the stairs determined to corner him and make him pay for whatever he had done to Tracey and John. Despite the blood pounding in her ears and the protests of her legs as she drove herself ruthlessly upwards her mind was strangely clear. Moriarty flung himself through the door at the top of the stairs and tried to ram it closed but Artemis barreled through it knocking him back onto the roof of the factory. He tried to scramble back through the door but she kicked him hard in the side and sent him rolling away. "You evil piece of shit." She said while she fought her breathing back to normal and slammed the door shut jamming a shim in to keep it closed for a little longer. "No, no, that's an insult to shit. I can't think of an insult that wouldn't insult something with more value than you." She kicked the shim and using the cover of her back to him pulled out the cell phone she'd grabbed from Sherlock earlier dialing Mycroft and slipped the slender device into her cast with the mic facing out so he'd hear everything.

She stalked towards him the thick heels on her boots clacking ominously as he struggled to his feet. He pulled a gun and pointed it at her. "Stop right there." He said wincing as the act of pointing the gun at her made his bruised ribs twinge.

She stopped but the look on her face wasn't fear and he wondered if he might have miscalculated, he decided to play a little game with her, he'd been hoping to save this game for Sherlock but needs must when the devil drives. He smirked at her and slouched a little affecting a bored attitude. "I applaud Sherlock for finally deducing where I was keeping his little pet. Took him long enough though."

Artemis propped her good hand on her hip and shook her head. "He didn't, that was me."

He felt his world tilt sideways for a second before he rallied. "Bravo. Nice to see you're the brains of your little operation. Your girlfriend…"

"Sister." Artemis interrupted and there was something in her eyes that made him wonder just how badly he'd miscalculated.

"She was a fun little nut to crack." He tried to soldier on.

Artemis took a step forward and he lifted the gun a little. "Ah ah. See I was hoping it would be Sherlock up here but I can do just as much damage with or without him. This might even be more fun."

Artemis crossed her arms over her chest and made a 'get on with it' gesture. He smiled condescendingly and waved the gun a little. "I'm tired of Sherlock and the Scooby Gang upending all my favorite plans. Its tiresome having to keep changing my travel arrangements so I've set up a little game, something to put the cherry on top of my last Game."

When Artemis didn't feed into his gloating he pouted but kept going. "Sherlock has to die or I will kill everyone he cares about, starting with John, his sweet favorite little pet then his darling Landlady who may or may not be his housekeeper…" He grinned and laughed a little.

"And then I'll move on to his Brother and his dear old mummy and daddy… I'll kill anyone even halfway associated with the Holmes, maybe I'll start with your sister instead of John but either way Sherlock will die and you'll kill him."

"And why would I do that?" She asked sounding uninterested.

He giggled and waved the gun dramatically. "Because if you don't walk down those stairs and put this gun to his head and pull the trigger right this second I will tell the operatives I have placed at every member of the Scooby Gangs location to start shooting. Oh and don't think you can off me and save the day because if I don't check in they'll start shooting anyway so you really don't have any choice."

Artemis smirked and uncrossed her arms. "That's a great monologue. No really, very James Bond. I would applaud but well kinda hard with a cast you see."

He frowned. "You really think I won't give the order to fuck up the next Holmes Christmas card?"

Artemis tucked her fingers into the cast and tugged the phone out and held it up pressing the button for speaker phone. "Did you get all that Mycroft?"

"Indeed, all operatives have been neutralized, I rather thought he might try something like this eventually." Mycroft replied. "Do give my best to Sherlock will you Artemis."

Artemis pressed the end button and stuck the phone into her pocket as Moriarty leveled the gun at her his face furious. "You bitch."

"Thanks." She replied with a smirk.

"Do you have any idea the favors I had to call in? Do you know how much work I am going to have to do to recoup this loss. Maybe I'll start with you!" He threw his hands up and started pacing in a circle.

"It wouldn't change a damned thing. You lost Moriarty." She shrugged unconcerned.

"You cheated! You called Mycroft. Why would you do that and spoil the game like that?" He sounded like an aggrieved teenager.

"Oh for fuck sake Moriarty grow up." Artemis snapped and stalked towards him. "Life is not a fucking game."

"It is a game and you cheated." He pointed the gun at her and Artemis sighed.

He suddenly grinned. "You know who played the game really well? Tracey. She was defiant and played the game so well. Made me cut her slow just to draw it out. And oh the things she told me."

Artemis laughed suddenly and he stopped confused. Artemis was laughing so hard she had to gasp for breath and he was shaking with rage when she abruptly stopped a smile on her face as she took a step towards him. "She didn't tell you a fucking thing. You wouldn't have raced to the roof of this fucking factory hoping Sherlock would follow you and become a suicide. If Tracey had told you anything you would have been long gone because trust me, she'd have told you that you die up here."

"Cocky bitch aren't you?" He snarled and cocked the hammer on the gun.

"Oh more than cocky. Shoot me if you want, it doesn't change anything. I know how this fucking ends." She took another step. "I've seen it all, how do you think I figured out where to find you? Sherlock couldn't even find you and he is by far smarter than I am. I know you Moriarty, I know your game. I knew you were going to try to force Sherlock to suicide to save his family."

"How?!" He howled and Artemis could hear someone pounding on the door trying to force it open.

She took another step forward and he backed up forgetting the gun in his hand as she advanced on him her face a mask of ferocity. "Because we don't exist here, because for me this is all a TV show in my world. I'm a spectator. I'm a watcher and this," She motioned with her casted arm at London at large. "Was one of my favorite shows. I love the characters, the stories and now I'm in it but it's all changed. See Moriarty, where I'm from you're dead." She gave a mirthless laugh. "You're dead and your network is dismantled because Sherlock beat you. You tried to destroy him and he fucking destroyed you instead."

She took a few more steps and he backed up again shaking his head. "No. That's… no, there's no way."

"Aww did I break your brain?" She cooed and reached out to caress his cheek the pounding on the door had stopped.

"You're lying. This is all some part of Sherlock's plan." Moriarty felt the fear creeping up the back of his throat.

"Oh Moriarty, Sherlock is brilliant but he's not that creative. I am from a world where all this is fiction, based on a series of books. I've been dragged from world to world for months fixing problems. You're just this world's problem, see like I said, you're supposed to be dead except Sherlock didn't take your bait. Something tiny changed but the tiniest things can change everything." She had him backed up to the edge of the roof and he held up his hands as if to ward her off forgetting he had the gun in his hand and she took it from him.

"You know what the best part of this is for me?" She asked running her fingers down his cheek making him flinch. "I get to make it all right. All of it, the broken people, the lives lost and I get to keep you from destroying two of the best and bravest people I know, the cops are going to be in heaven." She turned as if to walk to the door and Moriarty chuckled.

"If you think the Police can hold me you're in for a hell of a surprise. I'll be free in an hour and then I think I'll visit your sweet sister in the hospital. See if I can give her some new body modifications to go with her lovely new scars. Did you see my work? Or were you too busy chasing me to care about your girl? Not a very good sister are you?"

Artemis stopped and shook her head with a sigh. "Well fuck." She said and spun suddenly grabbing him by the lapels and pushing him until he was tilted over on the very edge of the roof only his heels holding him tenuously connected to the roof, death only a quarter inch of shoe leather away.

The door crashed open and Sherlock and John ran towards them, both shouted for her to stop but she only looked over her shoulder at Sherlock and he saw no anger, no fear just the knowledge in her eyes. Knowledge that she had to do this as she gave him that one final push and sent him 7 stories to the paving stones below. Sherlock and John rushed to her and stopped looking down at the broken body below, Artemis looked at them her eyes calm and untroubled. "I know you heard me. Both of you. This had to be done, and not even the police would be able to hold me."

John stared at her wide eyed and unable to come up with anything to say that would make any sense. Sherlock however rested a hand on her shoulder and nodded. "You did what was necessary. We'll tell Scotland Yard that he jumped when we cornered him."

 **I really think this was the best way to resolve that little puzzle and Artemis showed everyone she or rather Tracey, is not someone to be fucked with. Moriarty never knew what hit him. Please Review?**


	22. Chapter 22

Tracey woke up slowly in the hospital with an IV in the back of both hands, her arms were bandaged heavily and she still felt floaty and a little numb from the painkillers she'd been given. A quick glance around the room showed Sherlock and Artemis asleep on the couch leaning against one another and John slouched in one of the armchairs.

She looked around her hospital room, eyes heavy and her body feeling weightless. Her hair was still matted and needed a good washing, the rest of her needed a good sponge bath, but at the moment that would wait until she was back to being in her right mind. Tracey had to blink several times and slowly rubbed some sleep from her eyes. A slow yawn escaped from her before she could stop it and she had to smirk at Artemis and Sherlock on the couch. Oh how she missed Artemis, more than she ever had when she had been away from their apartment working conventions without her.

"I really hate IVs..." She muttered, carefully picking up her arms and eying the clear tubes that went from her hands to the IV pouches. "I want out of this place... now."

She slumped back in her hospital bed and pushed her hair out of her face.

Artemis shifted on the couch and groaned a little before sitting up and whacking herself in the face with her cast as she tried to rub her eyes. She made a soft noise and blinked around sitting up carefully trying not to wake Sherlock. She looked over at the bed and grinned hurrying over. "Oh my various Gods Tracey…" She sucked in a breath and reached out to hug Tracey her eyes bright with tears.

"Hey Artemis." Tracey replied, giving her a small wave before she was entrapped in her arms and the tears finally washed over her. "Try not to break me anymore, I'm already hurting... I wanna go home now..."

All the pain she felt being held prisoner in Moriarty's facility suddenly pours out and she sobbed into Artemis's shoulder. Tracey gripped her as firmly as she could, not trying to hurt herself though that was next to impossible with all the medications she had been given.

"How have you been?... Other than worried sick about me?"

Artemis sucked in a breath that shook and hiccuped sitting up and swiping at the tears on her face. "Scared out of my mind, trying to think at a level I am manifestly unsuited for and I broke myself because I was so freaked out and mad and I am so so sorry I didn't figure this shit out sooner. Gods Tracey I am so sorry he got ahold of you." She swallowed hard and more tears ran down her face.

Tracey thought that she could match Artemis tear for tear, but she shook her head. Cupping Artemis's face in her hands, she used her thumbs to wipe away more of her tears and then fumbled around for a box of tissues. She took a few for herself and wiped her own eyes and blew her nose as quietly as she could do she wouldn't wake the other sleepers in the room.

"You couldn't foresee this happening and neither could I Artemis, but I can guarantee that I'm going to be able to trust people for a long time." Tracey whispered, running her fingers over her friend's cast with a sigh. "How did you break your hand and is Moriarty finally out of our misery?"

Artemis took a few tissues and wiped her eyes sniffing. "Moriarty won't be coming back. I pushed him off a seven story building. And before we came to the hospital Sherlock and I went to check the body and I kind of… broke his skull…" She glanced down at her boot and wrinkled her nose.

"I broke my wrist when I botched a punch on a makeshift punching bag. Sherlock took me to the hospital."

"I don't know about you, but I've had enough of hospitals..." Tracey muttered quietly. "Those are too nice a pair of boots to just burn them... How long were John and I missing? I guess we're even now."

She had to scoff a little at the thought that had suddenly hit her and she shook her head.

"You got possessed by Dahok and I had a date with a criminal mastermind... remind me not to taunt the Universe anymore... at least not this Universe."

Artemis wiped her face and looked over at Sherlock and John where they were sleeping. "You two were missing nearly three days. You've been here about 24 hours and the doctor says you need to be here at least one more day. The cuts on your arms got a nasty staph infection and they have you on a mass spectrum antibiotic and some really nice painkillers."

She took Tracey's hand and squeezed gently. "I know you don't want to be here but Tracey, you almost died… I need you…" Her voice cracked a little and she took a breath. "I need you to stay here and get better."

Tracey rested her other hand on Arty's and sighed, her eyes closed as she rolled them and shook her head.

"Feel free to take some for later, which wouldn't be a bad idea seeing as we never know when we're going to end up in a place that has this type of medical attention again. Perhaps the hospital can supply us with a few extra things we could need."

She was right and Artemis and John could fill a bag with a wide variety of medical supplies they could want.

"I need you too Artemis... I can't do this without you. I would be lost."

Sherlock shifted and sat up looking at them, he looked a little confused but his eyes cleared quickly and he stood up in an elegantly boneless way. John stirred as well and smiled seeing Tracey. "You're awake." He stood up and patted her hand.

Tracey gave each of them a lopsided smile, mostly due to the awesome painkillers that the doctor had given her, and nodded. She squeezed his hand gently and looked at the bandages on her arms for a moment before looking back up at him and then the Sherlock.

"I owe you an apology Sherlock. Even though you do annoy the crap out of me with your silly deductions, I'm sure you tried to keep Artemis sane when I could not... So thank you." She said softly, looking him directly in the face kindly. "Mycroft on the other hand is far more annoying than you, I'm surprised he hasn't shown up yet."

Sherlock looked a little surprised and gratified before awkwardly patting her hand and retreating back to the couch. Artemis smiled a little sitting on the edge of the bed. "He did a great job keeping me from losing what's left of my mind. And Mycroft was here while you were out of it."

"Darn, I was hoping to taser him for the hell of it, but I guess this is for the best." Tracey said with a sigh and slowly leaned back against the bed. "What's our next move now?"

"You're going to rest and recover. I'm going to get ready for the next round, supplies, toys, candy etc." She smiled and smoothed Traceys hair back. "Just sleep and heal ok? Don't stress, we won ok?"

A nurse tapped on the door and bustled in with a trolley of medicines and a basin of warm water and some towels. "I hate to interrupt but visiting hours were over hours ago and Ms Denio needs her rest. You can come back later."

Tracey glanced over at the nurse, touched Artemis's hand and then leaned closer and whispered to her.

"Don't be long please... I don't want to be left alone in this place." She said, looking Arty in the eye and searching her face. "I don't like strange faces anymore so hurry back and I will rest easier knowing that you'll be here when I wake up."

She leaned back and looked at the nurse, taking on a no nonsense tone and looking her square in the eye.

"I want Artemis to come back and stay the night here in my hospital room, there will be no negotiating or I won't be resting and you will have to have the orderlies shove my meds down my throat."

The nurse took Artemis aside and spoke quietly to her. "We can't let you stay the night I'm afraid. But we understand she's been traumatized so we'll give you a chance to talk her around, but we will sedate her if we have to."

Artemis sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Let me sedate her ok? I was an EMT and she trusts me."

The nurse sighed but nodded and stood back while Artemis went back to Tracey's side. "Tracey, the hospital can't let me stay tonight…. I'm going to stay until after they've cleaned you up and then they're going to let me give you a sedative and I'll be back in the morning I promise." She took Tracey's hand rubbing her thumb over her knuckles.

Tracey searched Artemis's face and her eyes nearly pleaded for her to stay but eventually gave up and nodded, muttering a series of sentences in Elvish under her breath and squeezed her hand carefully.

"Fine, but I bathe myself!" She countered, holding out her arms for the water and towels. "I'm a big girl and I haven't needed anyone to bathe me in my life so hand it over and everyone out except for Arty... I will see you guys in the morning and I expect flowers for my troubles."

She gave a light laugh and waved them out of her room with a smile.

Artemis gave the nurse a reassuring smile and shut the door behind everyone. Sherlock and John told her they would be waiting to escort her back to her flat. When Artemis turned back around her face slipped out of its stoic mask and Tracey could see the fatigue, the anxiety and just the stress etched on her face when she wheeled the trolley over. "I'll let you wash your body but I'm going to wash your hair hon. You can't get those bandages wet right now."

"Okay... I'm sorry to have worried you so much." She replied slowly, taking a towel from the trolley and dampened it so she could start cleaning herself up. "Artemis you should rest too, you're looking a little worn and I'm sure you could use the extra sleep too."

She was glad that the curtains had been drawn before they started the cleansing and then she stripped from the hospital gown which was highly uncomfortable.

Artemis helped her get cleaned up then laid the bed all the way down and had her scoot up so her head was handing over the edge so she could wash her hair in the basin of water. "I'll rest when I get back to the flat… I'm going to have to explain everything to Sherlock and John… they kind of overheard me when I was backing Moriarty off the roof."

Tracey rolled her eyes up a little until she could see Artemis and tilted her head back, draping her hands over her stomach. Breathing slowly, she slowly relaxed under Artemis's gentle hands running through her hair, untangling all the mats and snarls that she acquired while being held captive.

"Whether they believe us or not it won't make much of a difference." Tracey said with a sigh and spoke up again after a moment. "I told John that one day we would poof and disappear... I don't think he knew what to think."

"I know it doesn't really matter if they believe us but I'm too tired to keep thinking up convincing lies and avoiding the questions gets tedious…" She squeezed the water out of Traceys hair and set the basin aside picking up a towel rubbing the strands to wick away the excess water. "And I think they might be able to handle it."

"We'll do what we have always had to and it will be a load of drama off our shoulders..." Tracey said with a shrug slowly pulling her fresh hospital gown back on with a sigh. "I hate these things, I want my clothes. Oh were you able to find my stuff in the facility?"

"I didn't really get a chance to look. After I pushed Moriarty off the room we had to do the Verbal Tango with the police to keep me out of jail then we came right here when John told me how hurt you were. I'll ask Lestrade and see if he found it." She helped Tracey get comfortable. "Now do I need to sedate you or can I just pocket this useful little syringe?"

Tracey looked from Artemis to the syringe on the tray and shook her head.

"Pocket that thing and keep it away from me, I don't want to see it again." She said, wanting to shy away from it. "John and I've been gassed too many times that we feel like a balloon and I'm on so many painkillers that I might never come down again. I don't want to start depending on it when we leave here."

She settled back in the bed and turned on the t.v. for a little bit while she rested.

"Get some sleep too Arty, I need you at at least eighty-five percent health. Hopefully we'll get a chance to heal up a bit before we get shoved into the next Universe... we can only hope."

Artemis tucked the syringe into the inner pocket of her jacket and leaned in kissing Traceys forehead. "You're the one who needs the hi-potions sweetheart. Get some sleep yourself. I'll be back in the morning."

She left the room closing the door behind her and nodded to John and Sherlock. "Lets go home."


	23. Chapter 23

**Arty has some 'splaining to do, think they'll believe her? Reviews get rewarded with Good Karma and Kitten Kisses!**

Artemis started to walk down the stairs to her flat but Sherlock caught her arm and she looked up to see John and Sherlock both looking at her expectantly. She sighed and followed them up to their flat, once the door was closed Sherlock turned to her but it was John who spoke. "We did as you asked, we didn't ask while we were at the Hospital and I understand it. Tracey needs to recover but now it's time to answer." His voice was hard and he sounded like the Captain he'd been in the Army, a tone he rarely used and which very rarely failed to get results.

Artemis raised an eyebrow and Sherlock knew this would be one of those very rare moments. "Thank you for abiding by my request but if you think I owe anyone a fucking thing much less an explanation of something that I'm not even totally sure of you are sorely mistaken so can the commanding tone." Her voice was hard and tight and Sherlock watched as the affable woman with her easy smiles was pared away to show a woman with a core of steel to match Johns.

"You told Moriarty that you were sent here, that all this is a fictional world…" Sherlock said cautiously.

Artemis pressed her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose and muttered something under her breath. When she looked back up she looked around her eyes a little watery. "Ok look, where I'm from it is fictional. But my world, my plane of existence is a long long way from this one. Your world, your experiences, your lives are every bit as real as mine. And without yours mine cannot exists, and without mine neither can yours. Its string theory and quantum physics on a scale I cannot even begin to understand much less explain and if my Gods are kind they will make you both think this was all some sort of bizarre dream."

Sherlock flopped down in his chair fingers steepled in front of his face but John stared at her. "So you're what… an alien?" He asked incredulously.

"She's not an extraterrestrial John, she's a Astral Projectionist." Sherlock replied scornfully.

"Actually I'm a witch. And I was send here by something so powerful that it can rewrite reality." Artemis replied.

"Oh...and I suppose the fairies want to have us over for tea." John muttered and Artemis ran a hand over her face.

"Then how do you explain what I know about the pair of you, or how I knew what Moriarty had planned for Sherlock. How do you explain that I could tell you exactly what will happen when you meet Mary Morstan, and man named Magnusson. How do you explain how I know about Mycroft? Hmmm? Neither Sherlock nor Mycroft could find anything about Tracey or myself. Nothing, we do not exist here. We get sent to worlds that have been altered and we fix what's been damaged so you guys can keep existing, so my world can keep existing." She was trying not to shout but the stress, the fear the revelations of the last three days were taking their toll.

John stared at her and felt the nauseating sense that she was totally serious and he was in well over his head. "And you accept this Sherlock, you believe it?"

Sherlock was staring at Artemis and all the pieces were finally making sense. All the details and deductions finally fit. "When you eliminate the impossible, whatever is left, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

"But isn't interdimensional extra planar existence and travel impossible?" John asked a bit desperately.

"Not from a quantum point." Sherlock replied. "It's a level of mathematics and science I have only barely dabbled in though one I might have to look into more seriously. But you aren't a mathematician or a scientist Artemis. How do you do it?"

"I'm a witch and I have help. I cast spells using correlating items, tools and carefully chosen words. I can only wade at the edge of the quantum pond in a very very limited way but I was good enough to get noticed and somehow Tracey got dragged into it too."

"So she's not like you then?" John asked.

Artemis smiled a little. "No. Tracey is… she's my compass. She keeps me honest and she makes me want to be better. But she's not a witch."

Sherlock looked over at John and John understood the sentiment. Sherlock had called him his conductor of light a handful of times. John sat down in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. "So… Moriarty was the bit of our world that was wrong?"

Artemis nodded. "He was supposed to die well over a year ago. There was this whole Game he had laid out and then he killed himself to keep Sherlock from stopping it...unless Sherlock committed suicide. Sherlock faked his death for two years to take down Moriarty's network then came back."

"Sounds like something you'd do." John said looking at Sherlock.

"It very nearly destroyed you both. But Something interfered and Moriarty never started that sequence of events, and he didn't die… So we got sent to make it right. Now that it's done we'll be sent on." Artemis was rubbing her thumb over the edge of the cast over and over and Sherlock knew she was worried, not quite scared but she didn't want to leave.

"Do you know when, or where?" John asked.

"No. It happens suddenly, one minute we're here then the next we're gone and onto the next disaster to avert." She looked around the flat as if she were trying to memorize it.

"How many worlds have you been to?" John asked.

Artemis thought about it for a moment. "This makes number five."

John stared at her. "Five worlds, like this? You must be exhausted, you don't get a break in between?"

She shook her head ruefully. "No… but not all of them are this bad. The first one was… nice. And the third. Tracey fell in love and we were there for months. That one was more about talking someone into doing the right thing but the last two have been rough."

"Wait she fell in love? And then you had to leave? What about the man she fell for? What happens to him? What happens to any of the people you meet?" John sat forward on the chair and Artemis looked down at her casted arm blinking tears away.

"We don't know. Like I said if the Gods are kind they make them forget. As far as I know we won't see them again, our part in their story is over and we try to keep it as low profile as we can so we don't interfere too much and change things more than they already are."

"That's why you kept it a secret." Sherlock stated quietly. "Because you couldn't know what would change things too much."

"That's an awful thing to have to bear alone." John said softly.

"I have Tracey." Artemis said softly.

They were all silent for a minute before John spoke up. "What can we do?" He asked compassion shining in his eyes.

Artemis took a breath and let it out slow. "We can only take what's in our satchels when we leave. I need Tracey's satchel."

John nodded. "I'll phone Lestrade and see if they found it."

She nodded. "I need more medical supplies. I have some basic stuff but I need more suture supplies, painkillers, antibiotics… stuff like that. We can't always find stuff in each world."

John stood up and picked up a notepad and started making a list. "Do you think you'll still be here tonight?" He asked.

She nodded. "I don't think we'll be shuffled off to the next one until Tracey is up on her feet and moving on her own power. I also need Mederma or some Vitamin E Oil."

"For the scars." He nodded and jotted it down. "I'll be back." He walked over to her and surprised her with a warm hug before turning and leaving.

Artemis felt a little lost standing in the middle of the sitting room. Sherlock seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and she had decided to leave him to it and head downstairs when he spoke. "You left behind a lover too."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder. "Yeah."

He stood up and moved towards her. "You feel real affection for him but are grieving him as if he's dead."

She nodded swallowing. "For me he is. I can't go back, only forward. Only on to the next challenge."

He hesitantly touched her hair then slid his hand down her cheek and cupped her face. "You choose to love a man that you'll never see again but don't cut yourself off from the affections of others. That's either incredibly brave… or you enjoy feeling like a martyr and since that has never been a deduction I've made of you you are brave. I just don't understand why."

She pressed her cheek against his hand and spoke to the pulse in his wrist. "If I cut myself off from loving others, caring about the people I meet in every world then why even bother trying to save those worlds? Why would it matter?" She looked up at him her dark eyes catching his pale pale blue eyes and holding them with a fierce intensity.

"I love these worlds. I loved reading about them, watching them on the television, loved seeing people bring them to life. I got attached to the characters and cried when they hurt, celebrated when they won. Got angry when they were mistreated. They were real to me because every single one of them saved me a little at a time. Saved me from my abusive dad who said I was worthless, saved me from the boredom that left me too much time to think about where I've failed. They gave me Tracey because without them we wouldn't have started the business. It is real you know. We did actually have a business selling stuff at conventions before all this."

She smiled a little. "So many good things in my life are because of these fictional worlds that are so very real. I love them, all of them and I will do anything to save them. And I know Tracey feels the same way."

He felt something creeping up on him, an emotion he had no words for while she spoke. It was so fresh, so new and so very fragile but he thought if he kept thinking about what Artemis had said he might someday understand it. He ran his thumb over her cheekbone and savored the feeling, he wanted more but he didn't know if that would be appropriate. Social niceties were baffling to him in normal situations and these were not normal situations.

He took her hand in his free hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles then to her wrist and then leaned in and kissed her lips before drawing back a little and looking at her. "You said you love the worlds, do you sometimes… love the people in them?"

She gave him a smile so real he felt his heart jump, it wasn't love, he knew this to be infatuation on his part. "I've always loved the people in them." She replied.

He cupped the back of her head speaking softly his lips brushing hers. "I know you do not love me the way you love the one you left behind. I am not so foolish but I am infatuated, can we be infatuated for just a little while together? Would that be wrong?"

She tilted her face up a little more. "No, not wrong." She whispered and kissed him.

They ended up in his room, hands, lips and tongues exploring one another slowly. He admitted his total lack of sexual experience and she taught him the carnal pleasures of the flesh carefully, tenderly and once in a fit of white hot passion when he stopped holding back. He felt his mind slow, his thoughts coiling around and around the mental form of her in his Mind Palace as she lay resting against him his long pale arm against the matching paleness of her own skin. He wondered if he could replace Irene's moan on his text tone for Artemis calling his name.

He made a mental note to start studying quantum physics and string theory as they drifted off to sleep.

 **Mmmmm, Sherlock sexy time. I'm a girl and he's hot, sue me. (Please don't I'm broke and I don't own any of this) Reviews please? For the kittens.**


	24. Chapter 24

John had found Traceys satchel and brought it back to the flat but left when he heard Sherlock and Artemis in bed together. He opted instead to go to the hospital and get the medical supplies and check on Tracey, he had her satchel in hand when he knocked on her door smiling genially at her as he set it down within her reach. "Have they given you that awful lime jelly yet?" He asked.

Tracey looked away from the window and sat up, giving John a smile as he set her bag down on the bed. "If hospital food here is anything like airplane food than I'm not touching it." She assured him. "I don't think I'm brave enough to risk anymore damage to this body. How are you doing?"

He smiled tucking his hands in his pockets. "I'm fine, well, a bit baffled and a little worried that I'm out of my head after everything Artemis told us but I'm used to it living with Sherlock and all."

"You're not out of your mind John, at least not before Artemis and myself." She said with a light laugh. "Thanks for grabbing my bag for me."

Digging around inside it, she made sure everything was there and much to her relief it was. Setting the bag on the bedside table, Tracey looked at John again and studied him for a moment.

"Looks like we could be hanging around for a few days and that will be fine with me, I could use a little vacation of sorts. Do you have anymore questions, or did Artemis blow your mind with her explanation?"

He sat down on the edge of her bed and had a brief moment of internal struggle. "You said… back at the factory, that you'd just go poof one day. Is that what really happens?"

"Mhm, poof." Tracey replied, making poof motions with her hands for emphasis. "Like a little dust cloud unfortunately. No warning except for a phone call from the Being or the God that keeps sending us to these different places to fix things." She made another poof for the hell of it and pushed some hair out of her face with a shrug.

"A phone call, she didn't mention a phone call." John muttered. ""What do you think happens when you leave?"

"Sometimes it's a phone call, sometimes we just... poof and appear somewhere else."

Tracey slowly contemplated what she was going to say and how she was going to arrange it in a way it would make sense to John.

"Before Arty and I started this little field trip we were coming home from a convention when lightning clapped three times and we suddenly found ourselves in Ancient Greece. That was fun for a time and once everything was over Zeus tried to send us back to our time but we were intercepted by a higher power and sent to New York. After fixing the problem there and bringing four brothers closer together, Artemis and I got a phone call and we were sent out again. We got separated in the next world and fixed that mess... Are you with me so far?"

"I follow. She said you guys get sent to fix something that's been damaged in each world. Moriarty was what was damaged here." He gave her a concerned look. "Are you okay with this? With being jerked around from world to world, never knowing what's coming next or what might happen to you? You almost died… would that higher power have saved you?"

"You know I never really thought about it like that before." She started, fidgeting with the IV tubes in her hands before clasping them together so she wouldn't be tempted to pull them out and put a bandage over them so she could make a break for the front doors of the hospital. "It's not easy going from world to world... I mean I vomit with every new destination, but I have Artemis and we look out for each other."

Tracey looked down at her hands, her facial features contorting in thought. She looked up at John again and shrugged her shoulders a little and let out a sigh.

"I don't know if the God would save me or not, but I also didn't think we would be getting hurt like this. We've tried to be careful unfortunately we mess up and I have to say this is by far the worst we've been injured. I don't think we have a choice but to see this thing to the end and hope that it ends soon... I personally hope that the people we interact with along this journey live more fruitfully and appreciate the people that they hold dear because you never know when they'll be ripped from your lives."

He reached over and took her hand. "If it is within my power at all I will remember you. I will remember your spirit and your strength and your temper." He chuckled. "You tased Sherlock for heaven sake that's got to be memorable."

Tracey couldn't help but laugh and patted John's hand in return.

"Oh that I won't ever forget that and you're so sweet John..." She answered with a smile. "You and Sherlock will always be in our hearts even when we travel. The people we meet never stray from our hearts no matter how far or how long we're away."

"Speaking of which how long have you two been away from your own world?" John looked curious. "Artemis said you two have been to five worlds including this one."

Tracey tapped a finger to her chin and tried to calculate up all the months they had been away from home.

"Okay we were in Greece for about 3 months or so, New York about a week and a half, Middle Earth about six months, Hong Kong for about two weeks and here for about nearly a week... so all in all Artemis and I have been traveling for about a year. We can say about ten months in all."

He stared at her. "Ten months. Of this. You're a saint." He grinned.

They both jumped when the door opened and the head nurse came in. She gave him a disapproving look. "Dr Watson visiting hours are not for another 8 hours. I really must ask you to go."

He gave Tracey a sympathetic smile. "Sorry Tracey, Nurse Ratchet is right and I do have to work here so I'm afraid that's me for the night. Try to get some rest yeah?"

"I will try, but I can't make any promises." Tracey replied, stifling a little yawn behind her hand and giving him a smile. "I'll see you later John, try not to work too hard because that's my job."

Settling back in her bed, she pulled the covers up to her chest and draped her arms over her stomach again. As they left and closed the door behind them, Tracey blinked a few times and felt her eyes growing heavy again. It only took a matter of moments before she was out like a light and resting comfortably.

John left her to sleep and made his way to the Chemists supply near the clinic. It didn't take him long to gather the medication Artemis had requested as well as a few he thought they should have and he was on his way back to Baker Street inside an hour. When he got home the flat was silent, he risked a peek into Sherlock's room and found Sherlock and Artemis asleep curled around each other, he smiled and closed the door and went up to his own bed.


	25. Epilogue

**I am actually sad to see this one end. This was one of my favorites and I got a little obsessed with it.**

Tracey was released two days later and Artemis took her back to their flat, John had gotten the door repaired, not that Artemis really spent much time down there. She tapped away on her laptop, watched Sherlock perform strange experiments and watched crap telly with John. When Tracey came home she had Sherlock and John waiting in her flat with a pint of ice cream and as much of Tracey's favorite junk food as they could manage to find. Sherlock wasn't sure what the point of this was but John told him to just shut up and enjoy it.

"I still don't understand the point. She's been in the hospital, not away on saffari. And for two days, why would she want all this fuss?" He was heard to ask when Tracey and Artemis entered the house.

"Because I'm sick and I need to be spoiled." Tracey answered, faking a coughing fit as she and Artemis closed the door behind themselves. "And I'm also grateful for friends like you."

She set down her satchel down on the couch chair, grabbed a spoon and took the ice cream from Sherlock's hands so she could dig into it. They watched as her eyes closed in pure bliss as she savored the cool cream on her spoon.

"There's only one thing that could possibly make this any better, but this will be good for now, thank you guys."

Artemis grinned and sat down. They all dug into the junk food and Artemis teased Sherlock into trying bites of everything then giving his impressions. John was busily constructing a dessert plate and giving his impression of a snobby french waiter when the phone Sherlock had set on the table began to ring. Artemis hesitantly picked up the phone from where it lay on the table, the number was blocked and she looked at Tracey biting her lower lip. Tracey got up and grabbed their satchels handing Artemis hers. Sherlock and John watched them before John spoke up. "It's happening isn't it?"

Artemis nodded. "This is how it happens in tech friendly worlds." She said. "We've gotten used to it."

Sherlock stood up and walked to her, he snagged his ubiquitous scarf from the back of his chair and looped it around Artemis's neck. The ringing of the phone was getting more insistent but he ignored it and cupped her face looking down at her intently. "Do not die. I would be very put out if after all the research and study I intend to do into String Theory and Quantum Physics are for naught because you died. If my initial studies are correct I can find you with this." He touched the scarf.

He let her go and turned to Tracey with a small smile. "I would like to shake your hand so please don't tase me again." He held out a hand and she shook it with a smile.

John hugged Artemis quickly then gave Tracey a longer more substantial hug. "You two are the best and bravest women I've ever met. You'll be fine."

"Of course we will." Tracey replied taking Artemis's hand. "We have each other. Just like you two have each other."

Artemis blew them a kiss then pressed the answer button and held the phone up to her ear. "You have done well, but your work is not yet done." The voice crackled through the phone and the girls vanished.

Sherlock picked up the phone where it had landed on the floor and looked at it, they glanced around at the flat and saw the furnishings, the totes of inventory, the little trappings of regular living slowly fading away. He looked at John who looked back. "I remember them." John said.

"Artemis and Tracey, the best and bravest women we know." Sherlock said softly. "Come now John, if I'm not mistaken I hear Lestrade coming down the stairs and he will surely be wondering why we're standing around in an empty flat."

They left the flat and Sherlock looked in one last time at the empty, musty flat. "The game is on." He murmured then looked to Lestrade who was talking to John.

"The game is on."

 **And that's the end of this one. The girls are on to the** **next** **world, you can find them in their next adventure in the 2015 Hercules Movie fanfic section. The next one is Foot Falls: Hercules, Journey to Olympus! Things get a little more real and a lot more personal.  
Pease review?**


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